Ashes to Ashes
by PawsCat
Summary: What happens to Kamatari after she/he accepts a job with the Japanese government as a spy?
1. The Actors take the Stage

**__**

Ashes to Ashes

Chapter One: The Actors take the Stage

  
DISCLAIMER: Kamatari is not mine (unfortunately) and she/he belongs to his/her rightful owners, Watsuki-sama and co. As do any other characters from Rurouni Kenshin who happen to show up. I'm only borrowing them, and I don't have any money, so it's no use suing me. Jessica, and the entire American and French cast ARE mine, so please don't borrow them without asking. (Although, why you'd want to totally eludes me.)

WARNING: This story takes place AFTER the Kyoto arc. If you do not wish to be spoiled, read no further. ALSO, this story will eventually contain a yaoi pairing. Nothing graphic, but if you don't like yaoi, it's best to nip impending fic addiction in the bud.

Now that all that is said, ENJOY! All C&C to pawscat_love@yahoo.com

Sept. 17, Meiji 13

Dear Shishio-sama,

I arrived in America today. The ship docked at a port called New York City. It is so strange here. The women wear metal shapes under their clothing. None of them are as alluring as I, though, and as I walked down the gangplank, some of the dockworkers whistled at me. I arrived at my new school only an hour ago, and already I yearn for my Ohgama. From what I've seen, the girls here are vain, stuck-up, and weak. The headmistress is, if possible, even worse. She tried to make me wear a dress like the other girls, but Mr. Baker, the government agent who was escorting me, told her that I was to be allowed to wear what I wished. I have yet to meet anyone here who is worthy of hearing your wisdom; however, I shall continue my search during dinner. I doubt that these stupid Americans will be able to grasp your genius.

I think of you every day.

Forever Yours,

Kamatari

************

I sighed as I put down my brush and glanced back over the letter in front of me, then over at the small box filled with the similar letters that I had written faithfully every day. If Shishio-sama could see into this world, he'd know I was still his.

A slight knock on the door caught my attention, and I turned, calling for them to enter as I quickly set the letter aside to dry. The door opened to admit the headmistress, one Miss van Haver. Her horsy face was made even more unattractive by the determined scowl firmly plastered across it. I noted the school uniforms she carried and grimaced.

"Well, apparently, someone here thinks she is too good to follow the rules. I don't care what your uncle says; none of my girls are going to have to go to school with you dressing as a showgirl! You're going to wear these, one way or another." She accented the not-so-subtle threat by pulling a long stick, I later learned it was called a whipping rod, out from behind the frilly constricting uniforms.

Smiling, I stood and set the box of letters aside. "I believe that Uncle Robert made it clear that I am to be allowed to dress as I choose..." I slowly walked over to the corner where I had propped the walking stick that was the only thing I was allowed to carry for my defense. "...and I have no intention of wearing those. If you truly wish to attempt to force me, I warn you now, I know how to defend myself." I lifted the stick confidently, holding it ready.

__

I'll probably get in trouble for this 'violation of my contract,' but SOMEONE has to teach this woman... A slight smirk curved my lips.

Before either of us had a chance to make a move, a bell rang out somewhere downstairs. My smirk grew to a full smile as I set my weapon aside. "I believe that it is time for dinner..." I bowed, "After you, Miss van Haver."

She opened her mouth to argue just as a pinched face appeared around the door. "Miss van Haver?" The voice was exactly what one would expect from such a face: high-pitched and nasal enough to make me want to wince. I recognized the girl from a brief encounter earlier in the day. Her name was Johanna Statton Richardson III, and she was everything that the name suggested. Blonde, snobby, and flat, she paraded around as reigning queen of the school, her father being a very prominent banker who donated large sums to the school. I wanted to laugh. She was weak. The weak exist only to serve the strong. One day she would serve the purpose of someone strong and all her father's money couldn't change that. I had considered challenging her, but I had more important things to do. I had, after all, promised Shishio-sama that I would spread his wisdom during dinner.

Miss van Haver turned reluctantly and followed Johanna down the hall to the stairwell. I smirked at her retreating back and folded the letter, laying it with the rest. I ran a loving hand over the box that was my only communication with my love as I turned to leave. "Aishiteru. Mata kimasu.[1]"

I left the room, locking the door behind me. That had been another of the concessions that my 'uncle' had insisted upon. That, and a private bathing area. As I continued down to dinner, I pondered the futility of trying to explain Shishio-sama's genius to idiotic Americans.

**********

By the time I made it to dinner, everyone had already been seated. I sat down in the only empty chair between two girls I had never met before. Miss van Haver and a row of girls seated near her glared balefully at me as I took my seat, but I ignored them. The girl on my left stared intensely at her silverware, not daring to meet my eyes. I mentally sneered at her for being so cowed by a group of little brats.

Turning my attention to the girl on my right, I saw that she was offering me a friendly, if shy, smile. "Hello... You're new here, right?... I'm Jessica... Jessica Fuller." Her voice was soft and pleasant, perhaps a bit too hesitant, but she couldn't be all bad if she stood up the local 'sword police.' I could also tell that this girl was used to being on the receiving end of their glares. Not only was she friendly, her clothes where older-looking, and heavily worn in places.

I smiled in return and offered her my hand, an American custom I had picked up on the ship. "Kama... Karalyn Smith." I almost bit my tongue. _I must be more tired than I thought to slip up like that!_ She didn't seem to notice, though, as she accepted my hand with a smile. A blush heated her face when that simple gesture caused a renewed wave of angry glares punctuated by scornful whispers. I was growing weary of their childish tactics, but I ignored them yet again. The girl on my left remained entranced by her soupspoon.

A serving girl appeared carrying several steaming trays, and Jessica released my hand as the girl set one in front of her. I could see two other girls setting identical trays in front of the rest of the students, who ignored their very existence. Jessica, however, smiled graciously and thanked the mousy little servant.

__

Hmmm... She's kind to those weaker than her... what a ridiculous waste of time...

As the serving girl set my tray in front of me, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the girl seated on Jessica's right reach out and pull Jessica's braid. As her head jerked back, she tipped the full spoon that had been on it's way to her mouth all over her dress. I noticed Johanna smirking in triumph from her seat at Miss van Haver's right hand. Jessica merely sat for a long moment staring at the large splotch spreading across her lap.

"Well, well... Clumsy as usual, I see." Miss van Haver tutted with an exaggerated sigh. "Don't just sit there, girl, go upstairs and change." Jessica whispered something pleadingly and began to rise. "What was that? Speak up girl!" Miss van Haver snapped, her voice full of malicious amusement.

Tears dripping silently off her chin, Jessica bowed her head and addressed her napkin, "I don't have another uniform, Miss van Haver."

"Oh, that's right. Your parents could only afford to buy you one uniform." Miss van Haver gave another dramatic sigh, and I could tell that she was enjoying this immensely. "Well, I'm sure that if you ask nicely, one of the other girls will lend you one of theirs."

I could see by the looks on the faces of the others that no one would, either out of cruelty or fear. A picture flashed through my mind of the dozen school uniforms still strewn across the couch where the headmistress had left them. I decided it would be more than worth the trouble to spoil their little game if it meant gaining even a small point against Johanna and her aides.

"You can borrow one of mine, if you don't mind it being a bit long..." my voice rang out in the silence. The headmistress's head jerked up and she glared at me in astonishment. Growing tired of this little game she and the girls played, I returned her glare full force. After a few moments, she dropped her gaze and waved us away from the table. Jessica audibly sobbed in relief as we left the room.

**********

Our journey to the second floor was completed in silence. Slowly, Jessica composed herself, and as I opened the door to my room, I felt an odd urge to break the suddenly smothering quiet. "The skirt will be too long, and I think the... the... What's the word? Around the chest? It might be too tight around the chest, but..." I began, babbling uncharacteristically as I moved into the room. I had never been good with crying women.

"That's all right," her soft voice sliced through my chatter, shaking only slightly. She was staring at the floor as though it had the answer to life hidden in it somewhere. "None of my dresses have ever fit very well." She paused, not looking up. A tear slid down her cheek and she rubbed it away angrily. "Thank you for helping me... They won't like you having spoiled their fun, though, so be careful. I don't want you to have trouble with them because you didn't know better than to help me..."

__

But I did know better... The strong survive, the weak die. But she is weak... I glanced at her as I sorted through the uniforms, searching for one that would fit her the best. She had finally raised her eyes and was staring in awe at the mountains of boxes piled around the room. _No. She is strong... Stronger than the others, at any rate. She has survived this long, and she would have survived without my help. The headmistress is the one who is weak. She may push people around, but she has never had to truly prove her strength._

I turned back to Jessica and held out the loosest uniform I had. "Who are 'they'? Johanna?" I asked as I showed her over to the partitioned bathing area.  
She nodded as she disappeared behind the screen. "Johanna, Paula Davies- her father is Johanna's father's partner, Rebecca Artlous- daughter of a sea captain, and a few others. Even those that don't agree with Johanna are too afraid to disobey her." Her voice was muffled as she fought with the buttons on the back of her dress.

"Here... Let me." I stepped around the screen and quickly unbuttoned the dozens of tiny, annoying buttons that were most of the reason I refused to wear western clothing. I then retreated to the room proper and waited for her to hand the soiled gown over to me. When she did, I rinsed it as best I could in the pail of water set beside a large, cave-like structure. I wrung the dress out and was hanging it up on a nearby rack when Jessica stepped out of the bathing area. She looked much improved by the simple act of changing clothes.

She was tall for a woman, her long red-brown hair was caught back in two tight braids that reached her waist. I was a bit taller, but that was to be expected. Her face was a slender oval dominated by a pair of large blue-green eyes. Between those eyes, a tiny, uptilted, nearly overlooked nose completed the picture of quaint beauty she presented. I eyed her nose thoughtfully. The dim light of the room prevented me from being positive, but I was almost certain she had freckles.

__

She still isn't as sexy as I, though. I thought with a small smirk.

Jessica smoothed her skirt nervously, blushing under my critical eye. The skirt was almost three inches too long, I noted dispassionately as I glanced at the pile of uniforms on the nearby couch.

"If you want, you can have the rest of the uniforms..." My tired mind cast about for the correct phrasing, "I won't ever wear them." I waved a dismissing hand at the offending fabric.

Jessica blinked at me incredulously. "But... we're required to wear them. And besides, Karilyn, these outfits are too beautiful for me to wear!" She sputtered slightly and fervently shook her head.

It took me a long moment to catch up with the torrent of words, and I pressed a hand to my aching forehead. "Onegai... Please, could you speak a bit more slowly?" Jessica blinked at me blankly for a moment before her brow furrowed. To forestall her questions, I forced a blush and lowered my eyes, "English is not my native language, and when I'm tired it become difficult for me to keep up."

Confusion passed over her face in a visible wave, chased swiftly away by a burning curiosity that made her eyes glow.

__

So the mouse becomes a kitten... Interesting. I grinned at the thought, which only added to Jessica's confusion.

"But your name... Karilyn Smith. Aren't you American?" She was so perplexed that it was almost comical.

__

Ah kitten... Not everyone is a cat like you. There are dogs in the world... and wolves. I indulged myself and made a moue of distaste at the thought before clearing my expression. Shaking my head ruefully, I smiled. _Americans are so arrogant_. "My father was British, but I lived with my mother in Japan since I was born. The only English that I speak is what Uncle Robert could teach me."

__

Well that isn't a total lie... There is every possibility that my father was a gaijin. Kaa-san would bed anyone just to have a place to sleep. As for the last... I remembered the long weeks spent listening and repeating, listening and repeating, ten hours a day, every single day. _The fewer total lies, the easier it will be to keep track…_

****

"You have to be able to understand to be an effective spy."

"You said this wasn't a spying mission!"

"Just because the initial plan doesn't involve something doesn't mean that it won't come up! It's best to be prepared for anything. You'd be wise to remember that, Miss Smith, or we may have to re-evaluate our dealings with you."

"My name is Honjo Kamatari!"

-**CRACK!**-

One of those pompous bastards slapped me!

"You are whoever we say you are, freak! Now, shut up and pay attention!"

****

I smirked maliciously at the memory. The man who had slapped me had been found the following morning on the passenger deck with a broken arm... among other things. I had been treated with more respect after that.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry! I had no idea that you were foreign!" Jessica's slightly ashamed exclamations pulled me from my memories. I raised my eyebrows as another wave of confusion washed over her face. "But if you are from Japan, why did you travel here instead of San Francisco or Seattle?"

I remembered reading about San Francisco in one of the many monstrous tomes I was required to read in my 'free' time. There was also the thought that I had heard it mentioned in Kyoto once or twice, as well. "I didn't come directly from Japan. I traveled to join my uncle at his estate in Paris. We stayed there for a month before he was able to escort me here. I wasn't even aware that I would be coming to America when I first left Japan."

"Oh…" her voice trailed off and her eyes widened dreamily, "You've been to Paris?"

My smile widened in amusement at so typical a reaction. "Yes. My uncle has an estate there." I didn't mention that the 'estate' was the foreign embassy and my 'uncle' a government goon. I also didn't mention that I had spent my time in Paris tracking down two Japanese informants who had outlived their usefulness.

"Did you get to wear any beautiful French clothing?" Jessica's eyes were still unfocused and her voice assured me that she wasn't anywhere near New York City.

I searched my mind quickly for the meaning of the word 'clo-thing,' but it eluded my fatigued efforts. "Clo-thing?" It galled me to have to ask for aid, but… _I should know that word!_

"Hmmm…? Oh!" Jessica blinked as she was catapulted back into reality. "Clothing means dresses, pants, gowns, shirts, and the like."

Filing that bit of information away and berating myself for forgetting it in the first place, I walked over to a large trunk that had been set off to one side at the back of the room. It took me a moment to find the key ring in my obi so that I could unlock the chest.

"Oh…" Jessica's shocked exclamation floated to my ears as I opened the trunk. She gaped speechlessly as I pulled the dozens of gowns out of the trunk. Every last one of them was unworn, as I had no wish to wear the tight, bulky, western'clo-thing.' My 'uncle' had insisted on buying them for me in all the colors of the rainbow, except red, which he said was the color of whores. Remembering Yumi, I had had to agree. I had repeatedly explained that I wouldn't wear them, but as usual, I was ignored.

__

How am I supposed to move silently or fight in all that fabric? The government unofficials, as I had taken to calling my escorts, had tried to force me to wear them later. It had taken me taking eight of them on at once for them to give me up as a lost cause.

"Do you want on? I won't wear them." I sneered at the rainbow of silks, satins, and wools draped haphazardly on the couch.

"Me?! Have one of those? I couldn't! Those are far too nice for me!" Jessica shook her head quickly, but I could see the longing in her eyes.

__

She's such a modest person… How annoying.

"No, I…" _What is the word?_ "I_…" I learned it when giving an invitation._ "I… insist!" _That's it!_ I cheered myself silently. "I insist that you have one." I began digging through the pile holding different dresses up to her. She protested all the while, but I feigned ignorance and she eventually gave up. Finally, I came across a sky blue dress that went perfectly with her coloring. The simple cut would accent her slender figure as well, I noted. "This one." I nodded firmly. "You must have this one."

I spent the next ten minutes attempting to persuade Jessica to take the dress, but she remained firm in her refusal. Reluctantly, I began to repack the trunk, throwing in three of the uniforms when Jessica wasn't looking. It took quite a while to get the dresses packed, and by the time we got to the sky blue dress, there was no more room in the chest.

I blinked at the full chest innocently, "Nani? It won't fit."

"What?" Jessica asked, glancing up from where she had been running her hand over the light silk of the sky blue dress. I gestured at the overflowing container. "Oh!" She tried in vain to force the dress to fit, but finally had to concede defeat or risk causing damage.

With a sigh she glanced around the room. "Well, where do you want to put it?"

__

The trap is sprung! I quickly hid a smirk. "I don't have anywhere else to put it. Jessica, please keep it for me."

"What?" She stared at the dress in her hands, "I couldn't possibly..."

"Well where do you... Where else can I put it?"

"Ummmm..." She glanced around the room, her gaze almost finding the clothespress on the other side of the room.

I stepped forward, drawing her attention, and gave her my best pleading look. "Please, Jessica?"

"But..." I batted my eyelashes at her. "Oh... Fine!" She huffed in annoyance but looked with longing at the dress she held, "But I'm only holding it for you, OK?"

__

Sure. Another smirk threatened to cross my face, but I ducked my head to hide it. "Hai, hai." I nodded. Jessica gave me an odd look and moved to leave.

"I'm going to take this back to my room and hang it up before it wrinkles," She looked askance at me. I smiled and nodded dismissal, but her attention had been caught by something on my left. I followed her gaze and realized that I had unconsciously been running my fingers over the large black enameled box on my desk.

Jessica walked over to me slowly, her eyes taking in the fine art and kanji on the surface of the box. "What does it say?"

"Jakuni kyoushouku" I whispered, my eyes tearing slightly. "Shishio-sama..." I raised my eyes to see Jessica looking at me with concern. Blinking rapidly, I forced my lips into a slight smile, "Ah, Gomen. It roughly translates to 'the strong survive; the weak die.'"

Jessica's eyes widened and she opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

I smiled softly at the words on the box. "Brilliant..." The word barely wavered in the stillness, and I cleared my throat, returning my gaze to Jessica's flabbergasted countenance. "It's brilliant, don't you think?"

She finally seemed to recover herself and stammered out, "W...what?!"

Three months ago, I would have been taken aback by her reaction. So many people had I tried to speak to now, though, that I ignored it and continued on.

"The weak exist only to serve the purpose of the strong. It is a theory much like that of Mr. Darwin who has recently come into so much fame. Survival of the fittest. The strong survive by feeding on the weak. It is a brilliant theory."

"How **_horrible_**! You can't honestly believe that, can you?" Jessica burst out, shock causing her to pale.

"Why shouldn't I believe it? It's the truth." Now I was a bit at loss. This was a different reaction that I was used to. Usually people questioned my sanity, not the validity of Shishio-sama's philosophy.

"The truth?!" Anger caused a brilliant flush to heat her cheeks, contrasting sharply with the pallor still coating the rest of her skin. "How can that be the truth? There are many kinds of strength! Everyone deserves a chance to live and discover their own kind of strength!" She was almost shouting now, her eyes burning with an inner fire that reminded me painfully of Shishio-sama.

My mind was totally blank. I couldn't think of a single argument for her logic. _What do I say? Shishio-sama, I wish you were here to help me with what to say... But you said I would be a good speaker, and I will! For you, Shishio-sama..._ "Everyone? Shishio-sama taught me that..."

"She-she-oh-sah-mah?" Jessica interrupted me softly.

I scowled slightly, but took the hint. There would be time another day. "Shishio-sama. He was... my love. He... died." I cleared my suddenly choked throat and gripped the beautiful black box a little tighter to steady myself.

"I'm sorry..." Jessica whispered with genuine contrition. "Is he the one who taught you that twisted bit of logic?" she waved a hand at the box on the table.

"Yes." I nodded sadly. "He lived his life by those words." I ran my hand one last time over the letter box and then stepped away from the desk.

"How did he die?" Her hesitant question made me stumble slightly. Jessica stepped forward in alarm, but I steadied myself.

"He... he burned to death." I whispered, remembering what Chou had told me of what happened at the fortress.

For a long moment Jessica stood silently, staring at the floor. When she looked up, however, I was surprised to see that her eyes were filled with tears. "I'm so sorry." she whispered, stepping forward to hug me.

I stiffened at her embrace, unsure of what to do. Finally, I relaxed and smoothed her hair soothingly, a motion I remembered to be comforting from my time with kaa-san. "Daijoubu. It's all right, little kitten. His life lives on in me."

Jessica stepped back and sniffed, rubbing at her reddened eyes, "Look at me... what a mess!" Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the clock sitting on a shelf over the cave-like recess. "Oh dear... We've been up here nearly and hour. The others will be almost done eating." She smiled ruefully and walked to the door, smoothing the light folds our hug had imprinted in the precious silk gown.

I walked with her to her room to hang up the dress. Her room was much smaller than mine. The bed was little more than a hard, thin mattress and a few boards and nails. A rickety, oft patched desk and worn-out chair graced one corner, while on the opposite wall was a tiny imitation of the cave-like hole in my room. _I think it is called a fire-home._

"I'm sure that this is much smaller and less extravagant than you are used to..." Jessica began in a voice clouded with embarrassment.

"Daijoubu." I cut her off quickly, "Rooms in Japan are smaller than this." I finished my perusal of the room and glanced back at her to find a look of confusion on her face. "Nani?"

"Nah-knee? Die-joh-boo? What do those mean?" She asked hesitantly.

"Ah... Sou ka. I see. Gomen..." I gave myself a mental smack when I realized that I was just adding to the problem. "Go-me-n," I broke down the syllables and roughly sketched the kana in the air, "means 'I'm sorry.' Da-i-jo-u-bu means 'It's alright' or if you are asking about a person, 'I'm alright.' Na-ni is the equivalent of the English word 'What.'"

"Oh... Sew Cah?" She smiled broadly at her attempt and giggled. I laughed with her as she finished hanging the dress. "We should go back downstairs. Miss van Haver will be angry that we took so long." She sighed. With a bow, I motioned for her to precede me out the door.

As we walked down the stairs, I could hear her whispering beneath her breath, "Daijoubu, 'It's/I'm alright.' Nani. 'What?' Sew Cah... No... That doesn't sound correct..."

"It's Sou ka." I corrected, smiling.

"Sou ka?" She glanced at me for reassurance, and then, when I nodded in encouragement, she continued her whisperings. She had repeated the list of phrases several times when we reached the entrance hall, from which we could hear the high-pitched voices of the girls talking as well as Miss van Haver bellowing about our continued absence. I exchanged a wry glance with Jessica and entered the dining room. The myriad of voices immediately stopped.

Miss van Haver glared at us as we moved forward to take our seats. The soup had long since been taken away and all of the other students were three-quarters of the way through the main course. I picked up the cumbersome American eating utensils and finally began my dinner.

The meal was, I decided after the first bite, less than tempting. A piece of grease-soaked shoe-leather drowned in a watery sauce that was dotted with floating bits of limp, long-dead vegetables was NOT my idea of food. Shrugging lightly, I attempted to set my discomfort aside.

__

If I can ignore the pain of being wounded in battle, then I can ignore the disgusting taste of this food. Feeling my resolve stiffen at my little pep talk, I took another bite...

...And let out a small squeak of disgust when my mouth was filled with slimy grease.

__

Ok, so I can't.

Giving up on the food, I glanced up and noticed that everyone was still watching Jessica and me. Well, everyone except the girl on my right and the two girls across the table from her, who were watching the grease ooze across their plates. I would have shrugged it off, but I noticed that Jessica was not holding up well under the close scrutiny. She had tried several times to begin eating again, but she was so nervous that she couldn't get any food to stay on her fork.

I sighed, totally out of patience with this childish game. Catching the eye of the girl nearest us, I summoned up an annoyed glare. Her eyes widened in surprise and a few seconds later lowered in defeat. The two girls seated on her left, noting their friend's lack of success, lowered their eyes without a fight.

A small sound made everyone at the table flinch and for a split second the eyes trained on Jessica and me flicked toward the head of the table in fear. Knowing where the sound had come from, I passed my gaze to the seat at Miss van Haver's right hand. There, like a betrayed queen, sat Johanna Statton Richardson III. The instant my eyes met her angry gray glare, every eye was on us. I was surprised to note that even the plate-watchers on my left had raised their eyes.

Johanna lifted her nose even higher in the air and met my glare head on.

For several minutes we just sat there, everyone watching us holding their collective breath. The longer I met her glare, the redder Johanna's face got, and the tighter she pursed her lips. When her look got no reaction from me, she began to realize that she was fighting a losing battle. I could see the wheels turning to ponderously in her mind as she started to look for a way out. Her eyes lit up and I knew she thought that she'd found a way to back down and still salvage her rather copious pride. Her eyes went almost immediately from glaring and angry to amused and contemptuous.

"Hmph. Foreigners. Do you not know that it is rude to stare?" She smirked slightly and dropped her eyes to continue her meal.

I smirked softly. _Does she really think that an amateurish move such as that would fell me, Ohgama no Kamatari of the Juppon Gatana?_

"Ah, gomen. Forgive me. It is only that in my country, the women wear a thick white cream to hide their ugliness. I would offer to let you borrow some of mine, but I highly doubt that it would do you any good." I watched, amused, as Johanna began to choke on a piece of food. The girls around her jumped up in fright, patting her ineffectually on the back and shrieking. After coughing for several long moments, tears streaming down her face, Johanna finally recovered herself enough to allow a few of the other girls to help her back to her room. Miss van Haver gave me a malevolent glare and hurried after them.

With both Johanna and Miss van Haver gone, the rest of the girls seemed to lose their bravado, and the meal finished in peace. Miss van Haver hurried back into the room once, staying only long enough to dismiss us, then hurried back out. I kept close to Jessica as we made our way upstairs, but none of the others even acknowledged our presence. I hesitated outside my door, ostensibly unlocking it, long enough to see Jessica safely enter her room before going into my own. Closing the door with only slightly more force than necessary, I sank down on the couch by the door.

__

Now what am I supposed to do? I wondered. After long moments, my exhausted mind finally settled on unpacking as a way to waste time.

As I rose, however, Jessica's now dry school uniform caught my eye, and I decided to return it to her. _She has few enough without one getting lost in this mess._

Nodding firmly, I opened the door and strode purposefully into the hall, knocking Jessica to the ground.

We blinked at each other for a long moment before I remembered myself and helped her to her feet. "Daijoubu ka? I'm sorry."

"I'm fine... Daijoubu...?" She mumbled hesitantly, then continued when I didn't find fault, "I was just going to come see if you needed any help unpacking."

I smiled, "I was just about to begin when I remembered your uniform. It's dry now." I held the garment out to her.

"Oh!" She blinked in surprise, "I had forgotten. Thank you..." She paused, her brow furrowed in thought. "What is 'Thank you' in Japanese?"

"Arigatou." I enunciated, smiling at her look of intense concentration. With an inward smirk, I decided to have a little fun with her. "Or domo arigatou, or arigatou gozaimas, or domo arigatou gozaimas." My inward smirk fought its way onto my face as her eyes widened to the size of saucers, her nose almost disappearing in comparison. "It depends on the situation. For you purposes, 'arigatou' will suffice."

She swallowed and nodded, looking very overwhelmed and mouthing the word and its English cousin almost unconsciously. Then, she tilted her head to one side. "Do you need any help unpacking?" Her eyes wandered around me to stare longingly at the unusual objects strewn about my room. I could tell that she was absolutely dying to rummage through it all.

"Of course. I'd welcome any company right now. Well... almost any." My eyes traveled meaningfully to the door of Johanna's room, right across the hall from my own. Jessica giggled and I moved aside to let her enter my room.

We stopped, just inside the door, eyeing the mountains of boxes and chests piled around the room.

Noting that this was going to be a rather long and drawn out task, I decided, with no small amount of mental snickering, to be a gentleman and let the lady choose. "Anou... Where do you want to start?"

Jessica eyed the room thoughtfully before settling on the enameled chest filled with Paris' finest. "We should unpack those first so that the creases can settle," she nodded and started purposefully forward.

A smirk curved my lips as I playfully returned, "Sure, sure. You just want to see them again." I was rewarded with one of her all too frequent blushes.

As we unpacked the dresses, and Jessica showed me how to hang them up, I told her about my month in Paris. I gave as detailed accounts as I could recall of the endless fittings, dinners, and dances that had been my life. Liberally interspersed where cajoling remarks as I tried to get her to take more of the, in my opinion, most useless piles of fabric ever created. She pretended not to hear, but every opportunity she got, she ran her hands over the shimmering fabrics. Once, I had to do some quick moving to hide the uniforms I had thrown in there earlier before she could see them. I lay them on top of the pile still draped across the couch when she was occupied with another dress. When we had gotten all the dresses in the chest hung up, Jessica noticed the flat boxes tiling the bottom.

"What are these?" She asked, lifting one out and opening it. For a moment, it looked as though the box would tumble out of her suddenly slack fingers. "Oh!" I glanced over her shoulder. The box contained jeweled necklaces, rings, bracelets, earrings, brooches, hair combs, hairpins, and even an anklet or two. They were, like the dresses they accompanied, unworn.

"Gifts," I shrugged, "from friends of my uncle in Paris." Those friends included four dukes, a prince, a dozen rich diplomats and a healthy spattering of wealthy merchants. She just continued to sit there, gaping into the box, so I reached around her and pulled out one of the necklaces. It was a string of pearls with a diamond pendant and a silver clasp. "This was given to me on the day I left Paris to come here by a young man named Georgio Lorence. His father runs an import business. The silver is from Spain, the pearls from South America, and the diamond from the wild jungles of Africa. There are matching earrings in there somewhere." I set the pearls back in the box and lifted out one of the few items in that I actually enjoyed. "This," I began, turning it my hands, my voice softening from acid amusement to wistful reminiscence, "was given to me by an admiral. Admiral Winst." I pointed to the large black opal set in the sophisticatedly unadorned mother of pearl brooch. "He won that in a card game in India, and found the shell that makes up the back after his first ever shipwreck when he was just a cabin boy. I used to sit for hours and listen to his tales." I smiled and settled the brooch carefully back into the box. Jessica stared at it for a moment, then remembering our purpose, began to unload the box carefully into a large cabinet to one side. I watched her, lost in thought. The Admiral had been the only one in all of Paris to see me for what I truly was. Only an hour after we had been introduced, he had cornered me in the garden and asked me what my game was. I had considered killing him, but it had been so early in my stay that I couldn't afford to blow my cover. For a good half-hour, we had sat, and I had made up lie after lie after lie to try and cover for myself. Each time, however, he had simply shaken his head and frowned at me. Finally, totally exasperated, I told him the truth, thinking that it was far less believable than any of the other stories I had told. To my great surprise, instead of shaking his head when I was done, he had simply nodded thoughtfully and risen to leave. I had jumped up and placed myself between him and the exit to the garden, asking incredulously why on earth he had believed such an outlandish story and praying that none were near enough to hear the very real panic in my voice. He had simply replied that, for a spy, I was a rotten liar. I was reaching into my obi for the short knife I was allowed in those days when he frowned and, eyeing the arm hidden behind my back, told me that I needn't worry that he would betray me. I blinked at him in surprise and suspicion, and he muttered something about having been to Japan once and seen the beauty of the land and her people. There was a loneliness and wistful longing in his voice that brought to mind Shishio-sama. I had dropped my arm back to my side and nodded, moving from my position blocking his way and sitting back down on the garden bench. He headed back towards main house where the dance I was currently supposed to be attending was being held, but paused at the garden gate. When I glanced up and raised an eyebrow, he smiled and offered me his arm. The rest of my stay he had escorted me to parties and essentially rescued me from total boredom. I smiled fondly and forcibly returned my mind to the present, where Jessica had just finished hanging up the last necklace and pair of earrings. 

Returning the now empty box to the bottom of the chest, she picked up one of the four remaining ones. It was the largest by far and was so full that it had had to be tied shut with a red ribbon. She glanced askance at me, hesitant to open it.

"Love letters." I felt my smile grow wider in amusement, "I received at least four a day during the last two weeks of my stay in Paris." That had been gratifying, but even more so was the disgusted reaction it elicited from my government watchdogs.

Jessica was gazing at the unopened box longingly, "How wonderful it must have been. I dare say I wouldn't have received a one."

I laughed and took the box from her, "You would have," I assured her with conviction, "Boys are silly like that. They only adored me so because I was 'exotic' and 'unusual' and 'amazingly different.'" I paused to scrunch my nose at her, "Their own words, mind, and none of them terribly original." I gave the red ribbon a gently tug and the box sprung open.

A bundle of letters, tied both together and individually with ribbons of soft gray, tumbled to the floor.

Jessica handed them to me as I set the box on a nearby table, careful to make sure no other bundles fell out. I knelt beside her on the floor and held the bundle to the candlelight. In the top corner of every envelope was a crest with a lion on it embossed in gold. "Monsieur Valaine. I met him at my very first ball. The only reason I remembered him at all was because he stepped on my feet when we danced, spilled lemonade on me when we didn't, and then sent me a letter every day till I left telling me how much of a goddess I was." Jessica gaped and laughed sympathetically, and my smile turned almost feral, "As if I wasn't already aware of that fact," I smoothed my hair.

Seeing her eyes glint with amusement, I blushed slightly and added ruefully, "You really have to give the poor child some credit though, for he's only eighteen and has spent the past ten years at a monastery." I shrugged and set the letters on the table beside the box of their kin. "Those go in my desk."

Nodding, Jessica peered back into the mostly empty chest, "What is in the rest of these?" she asked, waving a hand at the three remaining boxes.

"Hmmm... I believe that this one is hair ribbons, this one French cosmetics, and this..." I trailed off, my tired brain refusing to recall the day that I had packed the boxes in preparation for boarding the ship to America. "This one is..." I lifted the box out and opened a corner to peer in, "Oh. Patches."

Jessica blinked, totally clueless, and eyed the pale green kimono I was wearing. With a gentle laugh, I shook my head, "Not patches for clo-thing. In Paris, it is all the fashion for ladies to apply patches to their faces. I've heard that there is even a whole language that one can speak just by the type and placement of your patches, but understanding it eluded me for the most part." I shrugged and turned to the cabinet where Jessica had put my jewelry. Opening the first drawer my hand encountered, I opened the box and overturned it, dumping the patches haphazardly inside and then slamming the drawer shut. The ribbons followed into the drawer immediately below.

Jessica quickly stacked the jars of cosmetics on one of the tables. It had a mirror on the back, and I recalled that it was quite aptly named a 'vanity.' My government escort had taken inordinate pleasure in informing me of that fact one morning when I refused to leave my cabin until I had finished fixing my hair. For a few days, this had provided them no end of entertainment and me no end of annoyance, till I finally grew tired and put an end to the snide comments.

For several minutes, we tugged and pushed the chest until it set up against the far wall, out of our way. I considered just lifting it up and moving it myself, but I decided it would probably be a bad idea to appear stronger than is normal for a woman. By the time we finished Jessica was winded, so we paused to assess the situation.

"Well... That's one out of," I counted quickly and sighed, "eight. Not counting the all the boxes."

Jessica moaned and slumped onto the chest, "We're never going to finish! My whole family combined doesn't have this much..." She trailed off, a slight flush climbing her cheeks. "Well, we'd better get what you'll need for class tomorrow out before bedtime."

I nodded at the practicality of that statement, berating myself for not thinking of it in the first place. Glancing around, I spotted the chests containing my 'Eastern garb' as the government lackeys had called it. "Those are the only clo-thing that I ever wear." I glanced sideways as Jessica made a small noise.

She was biting her lip and appeared to be having a debate with herself. Finally, she noticed me watching and mumbled, "Clothing. It's clothing."

"Clothing?" She nodded. "Clothing." Shrugging, I helped her up and padded over to the first of two chests. It was my favorite, and one of my few remaining possessions from my time as a member of the Juppon Gatana. I pulled my key ring out of my obi and unlocked the beautifully carved silver lock. As I opened the chest, Jessica gasped behind me.

"I can see how French clothing would seem so inconsequential if that is what you are used to!" she whispered. Her amazed oohing and aahing continued as I lifted the emerald green silk outer kimono. It had been hand embroidered in a paler green with dozens of large lotus flowers. Jessica's eyes widened in amazement at the sheer simplicity, and yet intense beauty, of the design. They widened even more when they saw the volume of fabric that comprised the kimono, then narrowed in confusion, "How... Where can you hang it?"

I laughed lightly and bent to dig around at one side of the chest. A moment later, my hand emerged, dragging an odd looking contraption of wood and springs with it. "Monsieur du Pase, a kindly and eccentric elder gentleman who lived next door to us in Paris, crafted these for me when I had the same problem there." With a sharp tug, I pulled on the two front portions of wood and they swung outward, locking in place to form a solid bar of wood with a hook in the exact center. Handing this to Jessica, I draped the kimono over it, smoothing the fabric carefully. Then, I carefully folded the two bars back in, crossing the sleeves over the main body of the kimono and compacting it enough to make it a simple matter to hang in the clothes press.

Or it would have been a simple matter if there was any room in the clothes press not taken up by the riotously colored French dresses. For a long moment we examined the situation in silence. 

Finally, I turned to Jessica, "There's no help for it. My kimono will never fit with all those ridiculous dresses in there, and my kimono are the important things. We'll have to pack the dresses back up..." Seeing her face fall, I sprung my trap, "Unless you will keep some of them in your room for me...?" She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off, "No?" I sighed loudly, "Well then help me take them all down to pack back up." Reaching out I grabbed a handful of dresses and headed across the room to the chest they had previously inhabited. I smirked as I noticed Jessica was not following me.

"...wait..." I almost didn't hear her soft protest. Turning, I raised an eyebrow in question. She stared piercingly at me for a moment and then gave a huff. "Oh, fine!" She snatched the dresses out of my hands and grabbed another handful out of the press. "I'm only doing this because there's no room in your closet, and if you pack them back up for the full term, they'll get permanently creased. Besides, my clothes-press has a lock on it, so they'll be safe enough in it." She turned and flounced out of the room. I smiled softly at her retreating back. I was even forced to chuckle when, even as put out as she was, she shut the door with enough care that it barely clicked.

By the time she returned, I had hung the entire first chest of kimono up and was just opening the second chest. She knocked so quietly for a moment I thought it was my imagination, but then the door was opened a crack and she slipped in timidly. Apparently during her absence, her pique had worn off. With a sheepish smile, she joined me at the chest.

This chest was rather plain, bought more for function and sturdiness than decor. The appearance was echoed perfectly in the contents. It held a few dozen plain under kimono, all my obi and the various things for tying them, my tabi, long strips of cloth of various uses, a few pair of getta, and a dozen pair of zori. 

Smirking I noted that in these two chests, I had more clothes than most people use their entire lives. I had been rather annoyed at my guides when they took me shopping, so I had decided that I was going to milk my new position for all it was worth. It had been grand, my last day in Japan, in Tokyo, almost a year ago, to walk into a shop, point, and have any item I desired purchased. Needless to say, I had gotten a bit carried away, however, I justified it with the fact that I would not be returning to my home for a long, long time. 

Shaking off the melancholy that that thought brought with it, I noticed that Jessica had been unusually quiet during my packing. Chalking it up to awe at the very strangeness of the items, I placed the last pair of zori in the bottom of the clothes press.

As I turned from the chest, stretching to ease my slightly aching back, a movement caught my eye. I chuckled under my breath. Jessica had dozed off standing up, and was swaying slightly. I eyed the metal corset amusedly.

__

Well, at least they are good for something.

"Jessica..." I whispered, tapping her on the shoulder, "Jessica, wake up." Her eyes opened sleepily, no recognition in their clouded depths. I tapped her again, and she jumped, realizing where she was and mumbling a sleepy apology. I shrugged it off and steered her toward the door, ignoring her half-hearted protests. 

With a gentle shove, I sent her out the door. A soft "'rigatou" drifted back to me, and I giggled. Once I had made sure that she made it to her room, I closed the door and went back to work, unpacking the various boxes of hair accessories and cosmetics and assorted miscellaneous items that accompanied my clothing. 

The large grandfather clock in the main entry was just chiming midnight when I fell into the passably comfortable western bed. There hadn't been time to unpack my futon. 

My head hit the pillow at chime number three, and I had a rather sour thought: _One day down, only one hundred and eighty or so more to go..._ I couldn't summon up the energy to grimace. 

The last sound I heard was the clock's fourth chime as darkness blanketed me.

*****

[1] Mata kimasu- I'll return later.


	2. Morning Glorious

**_Ashes to Ashes_**

Chapter Two: Morning Glorious

Wow!  It's been a REALLY long time since I posted the first chapter of this… Thanks SO much to everyone who reviewed or sent C&C to me!  I AM going to finish this fic.  I have, however, in the past year, managed to lose my notebook with the planning for it TWICE, start school and have a miserable first semester, begin working thirty hours a week while trying to bring my grades up, be forced to move three months early, lose my notebook AGAIN… *sigh* I repeat: I WILL finish this fic if it kills me! *grin* Enjoy!  I hope to have the next chapter up in MUCH less time.

  
DISCLAIMER:  Kamatari is not mine (unfortunately) and she/he belongs to his/her rightful owners, Watsuki-sama and co.  As do any other characters from Rurouni Kenshin who happen to show up.  I'm only borrowing them, and I don't have any money, so it's no use suing me.  Jessica, and the entire American and French cast ARE mine, so please don't borrow them without asking.  (Although, why you'd want to totally eludes me.)

WARNING:  This story takes place AFTER the Kyoto arc.  If you do not wish to be spoiled, read no further.  ALSO, this story will eventually contain a yaoi pairing.  Nothing graphic, but if you don't like yaoi, it's best to nip impending fic addiction in the bud.

NOTE:  This chapter has not been beta-ed.  If you find a grievous error, or even an not so grievous error, please let me know.

Now that all that is said, ENJOY!  All C&C to pawscat_love@yahoo.com.

  


Despite the tardiness of my bedtime, my warrior's instincts woke me at the first noises in the corridor.  Sighing, I rolled over in bed, noting that not even a hint of light showed on my curtains.  Candlelight glowed from under my door and I could hear girl's voices whispering.  I sat up and slid out of the bed just as the whispered argument seemed to reach its height.  I had just taken a step toward the door when it opened a crack and feeble light slipped over the couch by the door.  Then the source of the light, an almost spent candle appeared, its minuscule flame almost blinding in the gloomy predawn.  Slowly, a tense white knuckled hand attached to frail arm followed the candle around the heavy wooden door.  For a moment I debated walking over and making my presence known, but I decided it would be more amusing to simply wait.  

Not worth the effort, really.

Finally, a furtive, obviously terrified face peered around the door frame, eyes so dilated that I couldn't tell what color the irises were.  My mind supplied an identity to go with the face; it was the mousy servant from dinner.

I can only imagine how I must have looked to her in my thin white yukata, but it must have been something and not something good at that. Her eyes widened an impossible amount more and she let out a frightened squeak before retreating around the door as quickly as she could manage.  Unfortunately her arm didn't make it out as fast as she might have wanted, and the candle tumbled to the ground as her tensed wrist hit the door with bruising force.

I watched the faint light glow briefly from the floor before being extinguished by its own melting wax.  Sighing, I wound my way through the maze of boxes to the door, picking up the candle and calling myself a hundred kinds of fool for not locking the door before I went to bed.  I could hear the serving girls whispering frantically on the other side of the door.  I was about to open it and confront them when an unmistakable nasal voice rang out.

"You girls!  What do you think that you are doing?!  People are trying to sleep!"

I sneered at the hypocrisy of that statement, which was spoken loud enough for the dead to hear.  Sidling silently to the still slightly open door, I peered out.

I had to stifle a laugh when I saw the poor girls.  They were huddled in a small group in the center of the hallway, staring fearfully at a lace and ruffle clad Johanna Statton Richardson III.  A few of them glanced over their shoulders at my door with equal fear, but apparently decided that I was the lesser of the two evils in this case.  As one, the girls began a strategic retreat toward my door and, not coincidentally, away from Johanna's accusing visage.

"Well?  Answer me!"  Her voice cracked like a whip in the silence, making the girls wince.  "Are you stupid?!" She asked when it became obvious that no answer was forthcoming.  A few of the girls actually nodded, hoping she'd let them go if they agreed.

It worked.  With a disgusted glare, Johanna snapped for the girls to go about their work and slammed her door with enough force to rattle the jars on my vanity.  I was impressed.  I didn't think she had the strength for such a show.  I glanced at the dresser and was instantly reminded of my comment during dinner about loaning Johanna my cosmetics.  For this reason, when I finally opened the door and alerted the servants to my presence, I had a rather unpleasant smirk on my face.

The girls took one look at me and began inching back toward Johanna's door.  Fortunately for them, this caused my smirk to shift slightly from vindictiveness to amusement.  Blinking suspiciously, the mousy little one paused.  She was cradling her hand against her chest protectively, and when she saw my eye on it, she quickly hid it behind her back.  I raised an eyebrow at that, but before I could say anything, a door further down the hall creaked open.  I turned in time to see Jessica poke her head out of her room.

She stared rather blearily at the tableau before her for a moment before sliding past her door.  In her, I got a glimpse of what the maid must have seen when peering into my room.  Her thin white nightgown glowed in the darkness of the as yet unlit hall, and her face was still pale with sleep.  I caught myself checking her feet to ensure that she was indeed no ghost.  She staggered drunkenly down the hall toward us, more on the bared wood than the carpet that ran down the center.  More than once I was sure she was going to ricochet off the wall.

Pausing a few feet away and swaying slightly, she cleared her throat.  However, when she opened her mouth to speak, almost no sound came out.  With a comic, sleepy frown, she cleared her throat again, more forcefully.  This time I caught the words that floated, insubstantial, on the air.

"Is everything alright, Marie?" Jessica swayed a bit too far to the left and had to jerk upright at the last second to prevent herself from crashing to the floor.

The mousy servant, evidently Marie, stepped forward and curtsied.  She did this not, I noticed, out of necessity (Jessica probably wouldn't have noticed if they crowned her Empress right then), but out of genuine respect.  "Yes, Miss Jessica.  Everything is fine."  She rose from her curtsy and went back to cradling her hand with a slight wince.

Jessica, even in her current state, noticed this, and her eyes narrowed in concern.  She stepped forward firmly, all traces of sleep gone as she surveyed the dark blotch already marring the work-darkened skin of Marie's wrist.  "What happened?"

A slight flush stole up the serving girl's neck and into her cheeks, but she made no answer other than a slight shrug and wince as Jessica prodded at the injury.  Glancing at the other girls and seeing no answer forthcoming from them either, Jessica turned to me.

I pasted a very solemn look on my face to hide my amusement.  "Ghost bite."  A half dozen pairs of eyes focused on me in surprise.  I nodded sagely and tilted my head back over my shoulder at my room.  Jessica blinked at me uncomprehendingly, so I pulled my pale yukata more firmly about me.  Her eyes widened in understanding, and a startled giggle escaped her.  Maintaining my serious demeanor, I held the now cold candle out to Marie.

She glanced from my face to Jessica's, flushing darker, and took the candle from me with a slight curtsy.  Finally allowing my amusement to show, I smirked and bowed to her.  "If everything is taken care of now, I suggest we remove ourselves from the hallway before the Dragon Princess returns."  I raised an eyebrow at Johanna's door.  Marie and the other girls nodded nervously and began hurrying down the hall.  

Marie paused to relight the candle and give it to Jessica so that she would be able to find her way back to bed.  Wishing us both a good morning, some more sincerely than others, she turned to leave.  She had dallied so long with us that the other girls were already long disappeared down the darkened stairs to the foyer.  As she started to brush past me, my hand shot out and clamped onto her injured wrist.  She let out a startled gasp which Jessica echoed, though she, wisely, made no move to interfere.

"Just why were you in my room in the first place?" I asked her with an almost deadly calm.  Her pulse sped up beneath my fingers, and I noted distractedly that my her skin had been made harsh by her years of service.  It was nowhere near as soft as my own.

_I doubt anyone knows who I am, and I doubt even more that they'd send a mere child after me, but you can never be too careful._

She waved the candle and squeaked something unintelligible.  Sighing in exasperation and starting to worry that Johanna might actually be right about the intelligence of the servants, I glanced at Jessica for clarification.  She just shrugged and continued to look concerned.

I forced a bit more cheer into my voice in an attempt to calm Jessica.  "Why were you in my room, Marie?"  I tightened my grip on her arm slightly, stopping just short of grinding the delicate bones of her wrist together.  She must have heard the serious, commanding edge to my voice because she lowered her head until all I could see was her white mob cap and a few strands of dull brown hair.

"It was Miss… Miss Johanna… She said you were a… a demon, and if we came in while you were sleepin', we'd see what you r… really looked like."  The white cap shivered slightly and then was still.

I almost laughed at the stupidity of that claim, quite prepared to believe Johanna's assertion that the girls' had sub-par intelligence.  The weakness that this girl's gullibility revealed made me laugh, and even to my own ears, the sound was cruel and unforgiving.  Jessica frowned at me, and Marie shuddered in fear.  Her hand jerked slightly in my grasp, and for the first time I noticed how frail the wrist I held was.  I realized that for all that work had aged her, Marie couldn't possibly be more than thirteen.  Coupled with the fact that she had probably never attended school before, Johanna's tale most likely made perfect sense to her.  With all these realizations, I was almost ready to believe her.  I would get Johanna later for her part in all this, but first, it was time to teach this girl a lesson in manners.

"And did Miss Johanna," I drawled the name contemptuously, "tell you what would happen if you were caught?"  The cap shook as Marie nodded.  I could hear her fighting to hold back tears. _Good.  I've always been terrible with crying women…_

"She… Miss Johanna said you'd… kill me… us."  A tear dropped onto my hand where it still held her wrist in a harsh grip.

_I wonder if Johanna realizes how close she got to the truth… The thought, and its obvious answer, made me smirk.  Marie was audibly sobbing now, and I saw Jessica, who had thus far watched in a sort of shocked paralysis, start forward._

Not wanting her to interfere, I suddenly released Marie's arm and forced a joking voice.  "Well, then it's a good thing that I'm not a demon."  Marie raised her eyes to mine in surprise, and I could see by the look on her face that she had received and understood the message in my words.  Despite my cheerful smile, my eyes were cold and hard as ice.  I knew that, no matter what the incentive, Marie would never again enter my room to see the demon sleeping.

Bobbing a perfunctory curtsy, Marie scurried off down the hall.  When she had gone, I turned to find Jessica staring after her with a disapproving expression.  My movement must have caught her attention because she transferred her clouded gaze to my face.  Frowning at me silently for a moment, she cleared her throat with slight nervousness.  "That wasn't very kind of you, you know."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise at that.  In my opinion, I had let the girl off easily… almost too easily.  If she had, by some strange twist of fate, managed to sneak into my room and see 'the demon's true form…'  My expression darkened at the possibilities.

Jessica, mistaking my glower for anger at her, took a deep breath, but hurried resolutely on.  "She's just a child.  Yes, it was wrong for her to try and sneak into your room, but it's more Johanna's fault than hers.  You shouldn't have taken your anger out on Marie."

_Taken my anger out on her? I almost laughed, and my incredulous expression seemed to confuse Jessica, for she rattled to a halt.  "Taken my anger out on her?" I repeated, "Jessica, if I had taken my anger out on her, she'd have more to worry about than a bruised wrist, which I had no part in causing."  I smirked slightly and allowed myself a brief image of the dozens of Shishio's men who I had gleefully killed for tiny displeasures.  Far less than jeopardizing my very life.  A slight tightness settled in my chest, which I attributed to not having killed someone who displeased me.  It was the first time in a very long time that I had had to exercise such restraint._

Shrugging off the feeling, I dragged my mind firmly back to the present and found Jessica watching me nervously.  Casting about quickly for a way to correct my faux pass, I opened my mouth to spill some excuse.

Jessica spoke before I could begin to dig myself in too deeply, though.  "You… You wouldn't have brought Miss van Haver into this, would you?"

With a silent prayer to kami-sama for giving Jessica the intuition of a turnip, I grasped eagerly at the excuse she offered.  "She is a servant, Jessica.  Her employer should be made known of her lapses."  I sighed and held up a calming hand as Jessica opened her mouth to argue, "…but since you hold her so highly, I will not pursue such a course of action this time."  Smiling in relief, Jessica nodded as if she had known all along that I wouldn't, so I hastily added, "But next time…" Though I knew there would, one way or another, never be a next time.

Jessica looked slightly less cheerful at the threat, misread as it may have been, that lingered in my words.  We stood there staring at each other for a few minutes, and I was almost certain that Jessica had fallen asleep standing up again, when the big clock in the front hall began booming out the hour.  I glanced down the hall toward the stairs, absently counting the chimes.

_1… 2… 3… 4… 5.....  __Five o'clock__ in the morning… I had slept a long time.  Shishio-sama had always kept us working well into early morning and had us up again before dawn.  I had long since learned to get by on two to three hours of sleep, if any._

Turning to Jessica, I caught her in the middle of a rather robust yawn.  I smiled and waited patiently for her to finish, ignoring the answering yawn that rose up within me.

When she had finished and stood blinking half-aware at me again, I bowed to her and turned to go back to my room.  The light from her candle fell across the now slightly wrinkled school uniforms still heaped on the couch by the door.

"Shimatta."  _More things to put away..._

Jessica paused and glanced back at me, "What does…"

"You don't want to know."  I interrupted brusquely.  I ran a resigned hand over my face, trying to think of where I could put the dozen uniforms.  Jessica just looked at me, concern showing in her sea colored eyes, and suddenly a picture of her small room and worn uniform flashed through my mind.  I had to consciously stifle a smirk as I plotted quickly the best way to go about gaining her cooperation.

Deciding on a plan of action, I let a mournful sigh slide past my lips and leveled a blatantly disgusted look at the rumpled heap of garments.  Jessica glanced askance at me, and I shifted my gaze to my too full clothespress.  Catching my dilemma, she blinked at me for a moment then bit her lip, "I don't have any room for them in my clothespress, either.  I'm sorry…"

I sighed again and eyed my clothespress with utter annoyance.  _I suppose that they would fit… That's not the point, though… With a slight huff, I took the candle from Jessica and padded softly over to see how much room I could make.  Really, all the uniforms would fit in the same space as one of those silly French monstrosities._

On the heels of that thought, I heard Yumi's voice calling me fourteen kinds of fool, and a slow grin spread across my face.  Providence smiled on me, though, and my back was to Jessica.  Thankfully, she didn't see what I could tell was a distinctly evil expression.  Clearing my throat, I pasted what I hoped was a suitably surprised look on my face and turned. _Think fast, Kamatari._

"Jessica?  When we unpacked the g… gowns…" I forced my mouth and mind around the word, "…did I give you the sea foam green one?"

Jessica just blinked at me for a moment, and I was reminded that it was five o'clock in the morning… Too early for a 'normal' lady to be expected to function.  Rightly assuming it would be at least a few minutes before Jessica could summon up the steam power to answer me, I continued.  "I must have.  Silly me.  That one I wanted to keep.  It's my favorite."  This wasn't a lie at all.  Of all the dresses, that one was my favorite.  I had liked the soft creamy green dress from the moment that I had seen the fabric it was to be made from, for several reasons.  The first was that my good friend Admiral Winst had picked it out for me, saying it reminded him of the sea on a cloudy day.  Secondly, it was almost the same color as my kimono from the Juppon Gatana, the one Chou always said brought out the highlights in my hair.  And the final (and most important) reason was that 'Uncle Robert' had objected to it, saying that the fabric was too heavy (expensive), too pale (expensive), and that trimmings would be hard to find (expensive).

I smiled winningly at Jessica, trying to look sheepish, "You wouldn't mind if I took that one back, would you?"

"No, no.  Not at all."  She was shaking her head before I even finished my sentence, and I could see in her face that not a word that I had said had penetrated her sleep fogged brain.  This was exactly what I had hoped for.

"Good."  I allowed my smile to deepen, "Then you can take these," I scooped up the uniforms and pushed them into her lax arms, waiting until the closed around them reflexively, "and later this afternoon, I'll stop by and pick up that dress."  I nodded vigorously, and almost laughed when she echoed my movement.  Not once, I was sure, did she know why she was nodding.

Still nodding, I hurried her out of my room before she could realize what she had agreed to.  Using her candle quickly to light one of my own, I then returned it to her.  I smiled at her and gave her a gentle shove toward her room, making sure she would make it down the hall if not awake, then at least not about to do herself any bodily harm.  I also wanted to make sure she didn't accidentally set the uniforms on fire with the candle she still carried.  She didn't, though, and I closed the door to my room with a gentle click.  Leaning back against it, I let out a long sigh.

_What a way to start my first full day in __America__… I made a face, catching sight of myself in the vanity's mirror, and laughing at how ridiculous I looked._

I shook a finger at my errant reflection, "Hair a mess, face still clouded with sleep, and barely a yukata… Shame on you!"  I moved away from the door and sat down at the vanity, tugging loose the string that I used to hold my hair when I was asleep.  I dug my brush out of a drawer and began to run it soothingly over my hair.

My hair had always been my favorite feature, and since leaving the Juppon Gatana, I had again allowed it to grow.  It was almost to my lower back now, and was finally beginning to be the right length for all my favorite styles.  One of my more fond memories of my mother was of her brushing my hair, insisting to me in her softly amused voice that my hair was black.  I would always squeak back that it was not and cover my ears.  She would laugh and ask me what color it was then.  The answer was always the same, "Purple…"  The word slipped past my lips in a sigh.  Kaa-san had always said I was peculiar to say such things, but even she could never deny that my hair was an odd shade of black that did indeed look purple in certain lights.

I winced as a brush snagged on a tangle, and my thoughts turned to the time when I didn't have enough hair to get tangles.  The day I 'joined' the Juppon Gatana, Shishio-sama had cut my hair off, saying that it would be his trophy for beating me.  I had always kept it short after that.

I worked through the tangles and my thoughts drifted back to kaa-san.  She had grown my hair long when I was just a child and disguised me as a girl so that I wouldn't be taken away from her to work in the fields or worse.  It cost less to pay the 'bosses' to keep a girl than a by, I supposed.

I finished brushing my hair and twisted it up into a functional bun, sticking two simple hair combs in it to hold it.  I then debated for several long minutes with myself about cosmetics.  That is, until I remembered my comment to Johanna about them being used to hide ugliness.  Needless to say, I decided not to wear any.  I did, however, spend a few moments putting a lotion on my face.  I had received it as a gift in Paris and had found that, in the drying salt spray of the ship, it prevented damage to my beautiful skin.  Since leaving Paris, I had grown a bit dependant upon it.

Once that was completed, I rose and went to the clothespress.  Opening it, I eyed the selection of kimono that I had to choose from.  I wavered for several long minutes between my second favorite royal blue kimono and a rich emerald one that I had yet to wear.  Finally, wanting to be comfortable with my appearance enough to enjoy rubbing Johanna's face in my beauty, I chose the blue.  It was the first kimono that I had received after… after the Juppon Gatana ceased to exist.  I had had my eye on the fabric from the first day that I had passed the shop in Kyoto that sold it.  I had plenty of money, thanks to Shishio-sama, but a beautiful kimono has no place in the life of an assassin.  I'd never have been able to wear it for fear of tearing, blood, burning, etc. destroying it.

_My money… I allowed myself a smug smile. __The government will never find our money…  Shishio-sama was truly a genius in that he made sure we (and he, himself) kept our money somewhere where no one would ever find it… Hoji had known where everyone's money was, and, knowing Hoji, he followed his orders to a tee and left the locations in a secret place for one of us to find.  Those of us under the eye of the government couldn't risk going after the money of our dead comrades, but if I ever returned to Japan, I had enough to live quite well._

I chose a light gray under-kimono to wear with the kimono and changed clothes, slowed quite a bit by my desire to 'blow that silly little chit out of the water,' to borrow one of the dear Admiral's phrases.  I took extra pains to tie the silver obi into the most complex bow that I knew, checking my appearance obsessively in the vanity mirror.  When I was finally satisfied with the arrangement, I paused to check my appearance overall.

The watery gray light filtering through the curtains aided the feeble glow from the single candle that I had lit, illuminating enough for me to see my reflection quite clearly.  The sleeves of this kimono, like all of my kimono, were long, but not nearly as long as my fighting kimono.  Unfettered, these sleeves fell gracefully to my knees, just long enough to show off the beautiful silver cranes embroidered on the fabric.  They seemed to glow and float about the royal blue sky as I turned to check my hair and obi one last time.  The eight pointed star bow looked perfect, shining softly in the early morning as though I had plucked it from the passing night sky, but my hair bothered me.  A plain functional bun was my usual style, and the exact opposite of what I wanted today.  I yanked the combs free and caught my hair as it tumbled loose, twisting it up again in a more elaborate style.  With my free hand, I dug into one of the drawers in the vanity and pulled out a set of silver and sapphire combs.  I placed them carefully in the center of the flowery looking knot I'd created and looked again at the mirror.  The rich blue and soft silver made my skin glow like lily petals, and my hair in that moment looked the most purple that I have ever seen it.  I nodded firmly, finally satisfied with my appearance.

I turned and sat at my writing desk to begin my daily letter to Shishio-sama just as there was a loud discordant ringing from downstairs.  The meal bell, my mind supplied, and I was on my feet and out the door before the echoes had faded.  Pausing to lock the door, I took a deep, calming breath.

_Time to face the... my... future._


	3. Sing Sweetly, Sparrow

**_Ashes to Ashes_**

Chapter Three: Sing Sweetly, Sparrow

  
DISCLAIMER:  Kamatari is not mine (unfortunately) and she/he belongs to his/her rightful owners, Watsuki-sama and co.  As do any other characters from Rurouni Kenshin who happen to show up.  I'm only borrowing them, and I don't have any money, so it's no use suing me.  Jessica, and the entire American and French cast ARE mine, so please don't borrow them without asking.  (Although, why you'd want to totally eludes me.)

WARNING:  This story takes place AFTER the Kyoto arc.  If you do not wish to be spoiled, read no further.  ALSO, this story will eventually contain a yaoi pairing.  Nothing graphic, but if you don't like yaoi, it's best to nip impending fic addiction in the bud.

*ducks the thrown objects*  I know, I know… I'm such a bad fic writer-type person.  This is only half of what I wanted for chapter three, too…  I blame it all on the fact that my whip wielder has lost her internet connection and can't threate… I mean encourage me properly.

I'll attempt to be faster with the next bit.  No promises, though.

Now that all that is said, ENJOY!  All C&C to pawscat_love@yahoo.com.

  


I was early for breakfast this morning, most likely due to the fact that I'd been up for over an hour already.  I padded softly into the dining room, smiling serenely at the room's sole occupant: Miss van Haver.  She gave me a glaring once over, then, apparently unable to find fault with my appearance, turned away with a huff.  Seating myself calmly, I hid a smile in the routine actions of unfolding my napkin.

On my way down the stairs, I had formulated a plan of action for dealing with Johanna.  I would teach her truth if it killed me.  She was weak.

As if conjured by my thoughts, Johanna and her entourage chose that moment to walk in.  Johanna cast a look at me, and her eyes widened slightly in surprise, followed quickly by glaring envy.  I met her eyes and smiled winningly, inwardly enjoying the unconcealed confusion that slowly clouded her features.  "Did you sleep well, Johanna?"  I was certain that the waver in my voice caused by repressed laughter would give me away.

Utter shock showed on the faces of Johanna's retinue, but her eyes only narrowed more. "I slept fine, thank you," She managed to cram a wealth of contempt into those last two words, "Did you sleep well, Karalyn?"

I simply continued to smile at her, not allowing my anger over the morning's events to show.  This seemed to confuse her more, and she glared at me as though trying to see my thoughts.  She glared at me so hard, in fact, that she almost missed her chair sitting down, and I had to break eye contact before I burst into laughter.

Minutes later, the other girls stumbled in.  Jessica was the last to arrive, still wiping sleep from her eyes.  I had finally managed to convince myself that I wasn't going to laugh at the slightest provocation and resumed my winning smiles to Johanna, even going so far as to compliment her on her hairstyle.  This was a bit much, considering she obviously hadn't styled her hair yet and it looked like an overused mop, but she didn't seem to realize that and began to look smug.  Jessica sat down silently, giving me a slight smile that died as she took in both my appearance and my attitude toward Johanna.

Breakfast was served, and I took one look at it and knew I was going to go hungry yet again.  Runny, watery eggs shared plate space with half burnt, half over greased sausages.  A gray glue-like substance occupied a bowl beside a slice of dry, rubbery toast.  I didn't even bother picking up a utensil, but folded my hands in my lap and sighed inwardly.  I did notice, however, the conspicuous absence of Marie, the serving girl from the morning's escapade.

Jessica also noticed the lack and a worried frown crossed her face.  She also did not make any pretense of eating, and it is for that reason (and that alone, I was sure) that breakfast proceeded without mishap.  By the end of the meal, Johanna was soaking up my few scattered words of praise and had even deigned to toss me a few condescending smiles.

The meal ended without anything more interesting happening than the girl on my left sharing one glance with the girl across from her before returning her gaze to the flatware, which was different this morning, I noted.  Miss van Haver dismissed us disinterestedly for our morning break.  I turned and hurried up to my room, eager as always to write my letter to Shishio-sama.

*****

Dear Shishio-sama,

I feel as though I'm fighting against the Battousai himself as I search for a spark of intelligence amongst these twits.  A losing battle if ever there was one.  I speak, of course, of the girls at this school.  Though there is one who has shown at least minimal intelligence.  Her name is Jessica, and she reminds me a little of myself as I was before you found me.  She's obviously quite poor, something I can sympathize with, and she has a sort of strength about her.  Everyone else here is unmercifully cruel to her, but she carries on as best she can.  One of the cruelest girls is the reigning princess of the school.  Her name is Johanna, and a weaker child I've never met.  I am confused as to how she came to be considered so powerful when a single comment can send her to her room in a swoon.

Of course, I'd be even more shocked if the headmistress was the one in charge.  I suppose as far as strength goes, Johanna does have more will than Miss van Haver.  I will continue to keep watch on my opponents, as you would have wished.

I miss you always.

Yours eternally,

Kamatari

*****

I reread the letter a half dozen times, something in it nagging at me.  I couldn't see anything wrong with it, so eventually I set it aside.  The feeling wouldn't leave me alone, though, and the answer seemed to be just barely beyond my reach.

Finally feeling that if I thought about it another moment I'd go insane, I got up and left my room.  As I locked the door, a pair of girls whose names I didn't feel worth the effort to remember, though I did note that they sat across from myself and my silverware obsessed neighbor at the dinner table, exited a room further down.  They were each carrying a sheaf of papers and talking in rather lackluster tones.

"Why do we have to keep practicing?  We sound terrible.  She can't honestly expect us to perform," the girl on the left muttered mournfully.

The other girl sighed and rolled her oddly colored pale eyes, "She can, and she does.  Stop complaining and hurry up, or we'll be late.  You and I both know that the only reason we sound terrible is because Johanna sings the solo, and she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket!"

I was preoccupied with pondering the question of what color the girl's eyes were when she let out a yelp and tumbled to the floor.  The papers she had been holding billowed upwards as if in slow motion.  In my mind's eye I could see the papers being cast to all corners of the hallway and the trouble that it would cause the pair to put them back in order.  They'd definitely be late then.

Before I realized what I was doing, I had moved forward and caught the papers midair.  The pair jumped back in surprise as I was suddenly before them, holding out what I could now see was sheet music.

_Maybe my training with Soujiro paid off after all… He couldn't have done any better, I'm sure.  At the thought of my old friend, I smiled warmly and proffered the music again.  Struggling to her feet, the girl, whose eyes I could now see were both oddly colored and mismatched, took the papers from me cautiously._

"Thank you," she murmured, continuing to blink at me in astonishment.

_Gold… Her left eye is gold.  Her right eye was in that moment branded in my mind as silver, since I couldn't think of a better description.  "You're welcome."  I moved aside so that they could pass me.  "You had best hurry, or you will be late."_

The other girl, all around a nondescript little thing with dirt-colored hair and eyes, glanced at me sharply, "Aren't you coming, too?  Miss van Haver will throw a fit if you're late on the very first day."

"I was not told that I had to be anywhere today except for the shopping trip later on."  I wondered if there was an ulterior motive behind Miss van Haver not informing me of a practice.  _Don't inform them so that you can yell at them for not knowing later.  It was a tactic employed in Shishio-sama's ranks often enough._

Bauble, as I had dubbed the girl with gold and silver eyes, looked perplexed.  "Do you not sing?"

Her friend, I labeled her Chiri since I didn't remember their names (assuming I'd ever known them, of course), muttered, "I don't see why that matters any."

Unconsciously, we began inching our way down the hall toward the stairs, and I noted a few girls in the other wing were also headed down to the first floor.  "Actually, I've been told I sing quite well."  Admittedly, it had been Chou and Soujiro who had told me that and one of them had been drunk at the time.  However, I had been trained as a female for a good portion of my life and had heard enough to know I wasn't a terrible singer at least.

I found two pairs of eyes focused intently on me. "You can!?" "You have?!" Their words blended as they spoke over one another.  I was, needless to say, a bit taken aback by their sudden interest and only nodded.

That was how I found myself tugged unceremoniously down the stairs and into the parlour by two almost total strangers hanging tenaciously onto the sleeves of my kimono.  I allowed myself to be led, a rather bemused smile worming its way onto my face.  The scene that greeted us only made that tiny twitch of my lips grow in strength.

Johanna stood at the center of a half circle of girls, almost all of whom looked like they'd rather be anywhere else.  Miss van Haver stood off to one side looking as if she had a bit of a stomach ailment, not that this was any different from her usual expression mind you.  Johanna was making such uproar as she went on about something or other to the headmistress that my escort had me halfway across the room before anyone noticed our presence.

It was my unfortunate luck that both the headmistress and her prima donna noticed our entrance at the same time.  Miss van Haver looked as though someone had just taken a sharp object to her prized embroidery.  If I had had any doubt that the headmistress was out to get me, her expression put them to a quick death.  Johanna, on the other hand, sneered at me.

"Come to try your hand at singing, Karalyn?" I was amused by her attempt to sneer my name.  Instead of being derogatory, she simply sounded whiny. "Well, I can always use another singer to compliment my talent as a soloist."  It was just as well that Johanna and Miss van Haver both had their attention focused on me because at this statement, the entire room seemed to flinch.

I almost set my plans for Johanna aside in that moment, but reason reared its annoying and all too sensible head and I simply smiled.  "I can't wait to hear you sing, Johanna."  I didn't trust myself to say anything further without giving the game away.

Miss van Haver stepped forward and cleared her throat.  Dutifully, the entire focus of the room shifted to her, and I noted right off that her expression had changed from one of anger at being thwarted to a sort of anticipatory pleasure.  Not being as stupid as I look, as Fuji was fond of reminding me, I immediately went on my guard.

The headmistress smiled with thinly concealed dislike at me and held out a folder of music, "Being new, I'll have to hear you audition before I can place you in our choir."

_Hmmm…__ Didn't Uncle Robert tell you that I have no shame?  Embarrassment doesn't work when you don't care what others think.  I smiled broadly as I took the folder from the older woman's outstretched hand, wanting nothing more than to snap her wrist out of pure pique.  It would be so easy to just take hold and give a slight twist…  She wouldn't even realize what I'd done until I turned to move away.  Sighing mentally, I reigned in my thoughts and concentrated on flipping through the music.  It had been years since I'd sung anything other than the bawdy snippets that Chou always wanted to hear or the lullaby that Soujiro often asked for on the nights when the nightmares were too great for him._

Johanna cleared her throat impatiently, preventing me from following that trail any further.  I could dwell on Soujiro and his pain for hours, but for the moment, it was time to sing.  Taking a deep breath to center myself and closing my eyes, I opened my mouth and let the sounds flow out of it.  It was always like that when I sang.  I didn't so much make the notes as simply let them follow their own will.  Before I had finished the first verse, I was lost in a sea of soothing sound, floating along oblivious to the others in the room.  Hennya had once told me that my singing sounded like my soul was trying to leave my body and dance on the wind.  He was poetic like that sometimes.  Of course, he'd also asked me if I was intact 'downstairs' because my voice was a bit on the high side.  My Ohgama had answered that question fast enough.  As the song wore on, my thoughts drifted more and more to my friends in the Juppon Gatana, and I felt, as I started the last verse, that I could feel their presence near me.  I was almost able to convince myself that when I opened my eyes, I would be standing before them all in one of the many rooms of Shishio-sama's fortress.  The feeling was so intense, so real, that I smiled as the last note of the song faded from the air.

I waited a few moments, basking in the sense of contentment the feeling had left me with, before opening my eyes to unpleasant reality.  I was amused and only slightly surprised to find everyone in the room gaping at me.  Some of the girls even had tears in their eyes.

Miss van Haver was the first to recover herself, "You knew that song?" her tone was almost accusatory.

I didn't bother hiding my irritation as the enveloping feeling of wellbeing seemed to diminish with her very voice, "I heard it a few times in Paris, yes."

"Hmph.  Well you were flat on the high D.  You may join the altos over there on the right."  She looked as though she had swallowed something very sour as she said this.

I just nodded and took my place as the other girls arranged themselves in a half circle behind Johanna.  They all wore nearly identical martyred expressions, while their queen looked slightly less smug.  Johanna and her lap dog, Miss van Haver, consulted extensively on which piece to begin practice with.  Finally, a quarter of an hour later, they decided on one I'd never heard before.  I was only slightly put out by this.  It meant I couldn't sing with my eyes closed this time, but my memory was such that the second time I went through it I'd be able to sing it backwards and blindfolded if necessary.

The headmistress settled back onto a divan and clapped out time for us.  The half-circle began singing in what was, if not worthy of an Italian opera, at least not terrible enough to warrant the trepidation the girls had been displaying.  Of course, there were missed notes here and there, but we trudged along well enough until about the midpoint of the piece, where the solo began.

From the moment Johanna opened her mouth, I understood why the whole group had all the cheer of a funeral pyre.  I wasn't aware until that moment that the human voice could reach such torturous heights or be so gratingly harsh.  Johanna wasn't just butchering the song, she was massacring her audience's nerve endings as well.  It took all my training to keep singing and not curl up in a ball and cover my ears.  What amazed me the most, however, was that the other girls bore it all stoically and with a minimum of flinching.  Finally, the solo was over and the rest of us were able to finish the song without Johanna's aid.

Before the hour was up, we had gone through a total of eight songs, and I wanted nothing more than to slice Johanna into a nice precise pile of julienne.  I had also come to the conclusion that the headmistress was wearing earplugs.  That was the only way someone like her could have withstood such torment.

Finally, however, we were done.  The headmistress dismissed us with orders that we were to meet in the entry in half an hour for a shopping excursion.

I had planned to go up to my room and regroup during the break, but I never even made it out of the parlour.  Johanna's slightly hoarse, and more screeching than normal, voice halted me before I had gone two steps.

"Karalyn!"  I winced and turned as though to face a death sentence, hoping I didn't look as trapped as I felt.  She smiled at me, and I was unpleasantly reminded of a shark I had seen when I was a child.  "I was wondering if you'd care to ride in my carriage while we shop."  It wasn't a question.

I considered for a moment, then nodded, "I'd love to, Johanna."  The sugar in my voice could have rotted all the teeth out of my mouth, but Johanna didn't seem to note anything insincere.  _Or maybe she's just so used to lies that she doesn't know up from down._

I smiled again and turned to leave, making it almost to the door before I felt a timid hand on my elbow.  "Karalyn…"

Jessica was looking strangely unsure of herself, though why I was so sure it was strange, I don't know.  I had only known her for a few hours.  "Karalyn," she repeated, her lip trembling slightly.

I glanced at Johanna, and after verifying that she was indeed too occupied with a discussion of whether French or Italian lace was better, I smiled warmly at the redhead and nodded in encouragement.  "I… I was wondering if perhaps we could look around together today when we go shopping…"

I glanced at Johanna again, "I already promised Johanna that I'd ride with her today," an apologetic smile was dredged to the surface, "Maybe next time?"

Jessica's face fell, and for a moment I thought she would cry.  However, she collected herself with a firm nod.  "Next time, perhaps."  Her voice said that she knew the chances of there being a 'next time' were practically nonexistent, but that she had long accepted this as an eventuality.  I was almost sorry for having to deceive her, but I'd buried my conscience in matters like this long ago.

I once again turned to retire to my room only to be waylaid by none other than Miss van Haver.  My patience was wearing quite thin, and the ringing in my ears wasn't helping matters any, so I did the only sensible thing.  Retreating as quickly as possible, _If__ you're retreating, it's not running, I joined Johanna near a large window and dove into the conversation.  They had moved from lace to general fashion and were debating French fashions versus American fashions.  Thankfully, French fashion was one area where I had extensive first-hand knowledge, and I was able to elude Miss van Haver until we loaded up the carriages to head to the more 'elite' shopping establishments.  The clopping of the horses hooves drowned out the tiny bit of residual ringing in my ears as we got underway._

I relaxed slightly and let the steady sway and buzzing city noises calm me.  Surprisingly enough, the moment we had entered the carriage, all conversation had ceased.  Praying to all the gods above for small miracles, I used the time to outline what I needed to accomplish today.  I was almost certain it was a waste of time to try and speak to Johanna and her entourage about Shishio-sama's wisdom, but I had to try.  _I will make you proud of me, Shishio-sama._

I came out of my reverie when the coach began to slow.  Glancing out the window, I quickly examined these new surroundings.  A rather impressive and intimidating marble façade greeted my eyes, the carved pillars arching up to a sign engraved in silver letters with the words "Rose Park Promenade."

As soon as the carriage doors opened, it was as if some special signal had been passed between the girls.  With almost military precision, the disembarking company was split into two formations.  Only Jessica and I remained after this maneuver was completed.  The first formation consisted of Johanna and her honor guard arranged in a precise design.  The second, comparatively, was like a large pile of refuse containing those girls not on Johanna's high society Who's Who.

I almost felt guilty stepping into Johanna's circle, especially when Jessica threw me a disappointed look.  It was not a pleasant feeling, and I brushed it aside.  Johanna smiled triumphantly and en masse we turned to the nearest window.  It belonged to a small antiques shop filled with lamps and musty furniture.  Paula Davies, a plump brunette of unremarkable details, spotted something she wanted to have a closer look at, so we all passed into the dim interior.  I noticed that the other group did not join us.  Quite the contrary, they chose the furthest possible shop to examine.

_You'd think they weren't welcome or something._  I smirked to myself, and paused to take in an extraordinarily ugly lamp prominently displayed near the doorway.  Under the guise of straightening the hideous red and turquoise shade, I ran my eyes over the wares.

Most of the items were fairly standard, a few more lamps only slightly less stomach turning than the one I examined were stationed at intervals around the room.  There were the random, dusty tables and chairs one usually associates with an antique shop, as well as a few trunks and chests stacked against one wall.  I was fully prepared to write the shop off as a total loss when something in the back caught my eye.  Ignoring the curious looks of the shopkeeper, I moved toward it.  It was hard at first to tell what exactly I was looking at, wedged as it was in the darkest corner.  I reached out with slightly shaking hands and lifted the porcelain doll into the light.

For several long moments my mind would not process what it was seeing.  The doll was beautiful, yes, but I had seen many beautiful dolls in France…  No, this doll was frightening because of the nature of its beauty.  Dark reddish brown hair, a color most unpopular in such a modern age, topped a pale porcelain face set with eyes of deep purple.  That alone was enough to make my heart stop, but it was the expression that truly terrified me.  The frozen red lips were locked in a perpetual, secretive smile, as though the doll knew something it would never tell.

_Yumi…_  I ran my fingertips over the flawless face.  The doll was dressed in a western gown, but there was no doubt that the spirit was that of my old friend.  The doll even had a slight scratch on its neck where…  My thoughts flew into the past unable to stop any more than I could stop the march of time.

Soujiro, Chou and I had always trained in a secluded clearing near Shishio-sama's fortress when we were together.  That particular day had been warm and bright, with just enough of a breeze to keep us from overheating.  Chou and I had been working on perfecting our blocking techniques for almost two hours, and we were more than ready to take a break.  Soujiro, who had been running circles around us quite literally and singing outrageously silly rhymes, was also ready to rest.  Before we could settle ourselves, however, Yumi had stepped into our little clearing clutching at her side.  For all that she was a courtesan, the redhead had always been a terrible liar.  When we asked her what happened, she muttered something about slipping, but we all knew that Komagata Yumi had more grace than that.  If you wore a kimono held up only by the whim of gravity, you would be graceful too.__

There was only one person who frightened Yumi enough to cause her to lie about an injury.  One person besides Shishio-sama, that is.  Usui.  He had chased after Yumi for years, and it was partially over her favor that he'd lost his eyes.

Chou had immediately insisted that we all go straight to Shishio-sama, but he was always an idiot like that.  Each time something like this happened, they would argue for hours afterwards about whether to inform her lover, or at least Houji.  The result was always the same, though; Yumi knew that tattling like a child would only appear weak.  "Besides," she would say with a smirk at me, "it's not as though I'm not used to pain…  Shishio-sama is a very… energetic lover."  She loved to bait me… not that I was a saint in that department either, mind you.

This time, however, Soujiro interposed himself between us before I could counter her with a witty response.  "Yumi-san," he smiled winningly, and unlike the rest of us, there was no anger in him, "Yumi-san cannot continue to allow things like this to happen."

The older woman gave a very unladylike snort and patted the boy on the head.  "You're quite right, Soujiro, I simply can't.  I'll just explain that to Usui and we'll all live happily ever after."  As much of a big sister as she was to the Tenken and I, Yumi never did have much patience.

Soujiro just smiled even more broadly, "I think your explanation will carry more weight if you emphasize a little more…"  He turned to me, "And Kamatari-san was looking for an excuse to practice her knife skills."

That had led to a shouting match the likes of which that little clearing will never forget.  Yumi had flatly refused to practice with 'that flaming half-man.'  To which Chou retorted that she slept with one every night, so he didn't know why she was complaining so much.  It took Soujiro and me a full hour to calm them both enough that we could pry the last bits of blonde hair out of her tightly clenched hands.

Our practice session ended with that unmitigated disaster, and we all went our separate ways to dine for the evening.  It rained every day for the next week and a half.  By the time we all returned to the clearing to practice, tempers were quite short.

Chou and I were just warming up, and Soujiro was still double-checking the binding on his shoes when we noticed Yumi leaning against one of the trees.  Her hair was half torn out of its usual neat bun, hiding her face.  There was blood on her chin, though, and Chou saw.  He was across the clearing before Soujiro or I could stop him.  I know he may act like a 'tougher than thou' bully, but Chou really had a soft heart for most of us in the Juppon Gatana… Especially for Yumi, whom he often called the Plum Blossom that danced among the Twelve Blades.

He was furious.  It was the first time he had ever displayed such hardness towards Yumi, for all that they argued incessantly.  He jerked her chin up, her hair falling back to reveal a badly split lip and swollen eye.  

"WHY?" He screamed at her.  She simply shrugged resignedly.  "You say that telling Shishio would be showing weakness, but what does continuing to allow this to happen show?  Ne, Yumi?!  Answer me that!"  She didn't respond; couldn't respond, really.  "That's it!  I'm going to Shishio and nothing you say can stop me."  He made a move as if to turn, but then froze as a knife was suddenly pressed against his throat.

"Do it, and I will kill you," The redhead hissed, pressing the blade painfully against her captive's neck.  The glittering blade wasn't hers, and as far as we all knew, Yumi had no weapons.  I suppose that pick pocketing is a useful skill for a whore to have, however, gaining and opponent's weapon does you no good if you don't have the skill to keep and use it.

Chou yanked the blade out of her hand, quick as lightning, and twisted her arm up behind her back hard enough to risk dislocating her shoulder.  There was blood running down the blonde's neck in a thin trickle, and his fury only seemed to be doubled by the red smears on his hand as he wiped at it.

Growling low in his throat, the sword lover ran his tongue along the perfect ear before him.  "It would give me great pleasure to kill you right now.  How would you stop me?"  Copying her earlier actions, he pressed the razor sharp blade to her throat, watching the blood well up around the pristine steel.  Yumi was so shocked that she simply stared, eyes so wide that you could see the whites all around, barely breathing.  "You can't stop me."  With a violent shove, Chou sent her flying across the clearing to land in a pile of fabric and flesh at our feet. "That," he ground out, spitting on the ground, "is weakness."  Then he turned and disappeared into the trees.

The following day Yumi had come and quite humbly asked me to train her in the use of a short knife.  Chou refused to watch the training, but when it was complete one of his prize blades mysteriously found its way into Yumi's trunk.  The pair's enmity had healed, though both had matching scars on one side of their necks to remind them.

It was all so clear; I could hear Yumi's voice like she was standing beside me.

"Karalyn?  Karalyn!"  Wait… Yumi's voice had never been that grating.

I blinked and the world spun and refocused.  I was back in the antique store with Yumi's doll gazing laughingly up at me and Johanna calling my name impatiently from the doorway.  Gathering myself quickly, I turned to her, "My apologies, I was looking at this remarkable doll.  I would like to purchase it.  Wait for me?"

Johanna gave an exaggerated sigh, "We'll wait for you outside.  It's so musty in here.  Bad for my complexion."  The door swung shut on her last words.  I exchanged an amused glance with the shopkeeper, and then quickly completed my purchase.  I opted to take the doll unwrapped and without a box.  I could just imagine Yumi scolding me for putting her in a coffin.

Cradling the doll in the crook of one arm, I pushed open the door and stepped into the brilliant sunlight.

The rest of the girls were huddled in front of the next shop, a milliner's according to the sign.  They seemed almost hypnotically interested in the display.  You can imagine my disappointment when I peered in and found only a single dress in the window.  Even more disappointingly, it was identical to the trunk full of dresses that I'd carted from Paris.

I must have made some noise of displeasure as I looked upon it because Johanna and Paula both turned to me and stuck their noses up in the air.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect a foreigner such as yourself to know beauty…" Paula began, but Johanna cut her off.

"This is the height of fashion," she drawled disdainfully.

"Is it really?" I commented thoughtfully, "I suppose I'm terribly fashionable, then…"  I placed as much emphasis on 'terribly' as possible, "because I have no fewer than a dozen gowns in that exact style."  Not pausing to take in their reactions, I turned and walked into the shop, head held high.


	4. Shop 'till I Drop

**_Ashes to Ashes_**

Chapter Four: Shop 'till I Drop

  
DISCLAIMER:  Kamatari is not mine (unfortunately) and she/he belongs to his/her rightful owners, Watsuki-sama and co.  As do any other characters from Rurouni Kenshin who happen to show up.  I'm only borrowing them, and I don't have any money, so it's no use suing me.  Jessica, and the entire American and French cast ARE mine, so please don't borrow them without asking.  (Although, why you'd want to totally eludes me.)

WARNING:  This story takes place AFTER the Kyoto arc.  If you do not wish to be spoiled, read no further.  ALSO, this story will eventually contain a yaoi pairing.  Nothing graphic, but if you don't like yaoi, it's best to nip impending fic addiction in the bud.

Now that all that is said, ENJOY!  All C&C to pawscat_love@yahoo.com.

  


The milliner's shop was bright and cheerful, a startling contrast to the one I'd just left.  It was almost frighteningly neat, with each item having its own box, slot, hanger, or stand.  It will surprise you to know, therefore, that the shop owner was, in a word, not.

She was a rounded little woman with gray hair that seemed to go everywhere at once.  There was dust on her nose and a stain on her hem, and her spectacles were very crooked.  Her smile was inviting, however, and her shop obviously well loved, so I didn't let the tidiness intimidate me.

There were gloves and laces in glass displays on the left, parasols and hats on stands to the right, scarves and shawls hung on the wall in front.  Everything one could ever want or need was somewhere in this small room, I was sure.  I was examining a display of parasols when I finally heard the shop door open.  _Only a moment to recover… It must be a record._

Johanna didn't even bother fully entering the shop, but simply screeched at me from the doorway, "Where did you get a dozen French gowns?" She was an amusing shade of green that clashed horridly with her pastel pink day ensemble.

I turned nonchalantly to the shopkeeper, "Do you have any parasols with less lace on them?"  Johanna turned an even less comely shade of purple as I consulted a moment with the woman about parasols, finally selecting an unadorned one to purchase.  Only when I had made my selection and gotten my amusement and irritation under control, did I turn.  "In France, of course," I couldn't help but put just a bit of condescension in my tone.  Johanna's mouth dropped.

"You've been to France?"  She seemed at the last minute to realize the awe in her tone and hastened to add, "Who would have thought a peasant like you would have been to France…"

Not bothering to correct the many assumptions she'd erroneously made, I just smiled, "Yes, who would have thought."  _Certainly not you._ "I spent the better part of five months in Paris.  My uncle has a large estate there."  Johanna was gaping like a landed fish; the look suited her.  "Uncle Robert was kind enough to buy me many dresses in Paris.  For the parties, you know."  I didn't bother mentioning that I'd never worn the gowns to a single party.

"You've been to balls in Paris?"  That was Rebecca.  From what I could tell, she resided just below Paula in the ranks.

I smiled sweetly at them, "Dozens.  Uncle Robert is always being asked to this ball and that.  He's good friends with the Grand Duke of Russia."  That wasn't a total lie.  I had been introduced very briefly to his grace at three separate balls, so I assumed that my 'uncle' had at least met the man.

Having said all I intended to say, I turned away and began examining a case of hair ornaments.  The other girls were silent for a long moment, and then they clumped around me like so many pastel clouds and began grilling me with questions about French fashion.  Johanna was almost disgustingly nice to me during the discussion.  When we finally left the shop, me juggling both my doll and a parasol, Johanna opened the door for me and allowed me to precede her through it.  If I were an empty headed twit, I probably would have dissolved into a fit of giggles at the irony of such actions, but I refrained.

The next two shops were dull looking, so we did not bother to investigate them.  Or rather, I did not bother to investigate them, so the other girls decided they didn't need to go in after all.

There was a bookshop a little up the way, though, and I was most interested in stopping in there.  It was dim and cool within the confines of the little shop, and smelled of dust and paper.  I smiled and took a deep breath; I've always loved the smell of books.

I slipped into the rows of shelves, skillfully eluding the girls who sought to follow.  I wanted to be able to enjoy a few moments of quiet.  I soon found myself in front of a wall of leather-bound collections of poetry.  Choosing one at random, I flipped through the heavy pages until a verse caught my eye.

_I will not ask where thou liest low,  
Nor gaze upon the spot;  
There flowers or weeds at will may grow,  
So I behold them not:  
It is enough for me to prove  
That what I lov'd, and long must love,  
Like common earth can rot;  
To me there needs no stone to tell,  
'T is Nothing that I lov'd so well._ (1)

I read the poem twice, and flipped through the rest of the book, but none of it touched my heart like that one little verse.  I contemplated buying the book, but my frugality wouldn't allow such a large purchase for such a small gain.  In the end, I settled for a mystery and a book of fairy stories.  I did note the name of the poem, however, and the author, so that I could find it later if I wished.

As I was wending my way back through the stacks to the front, I stumbled across Rebecca nestled before a stack of romantic drivel.  She was deeply engrossed in a novel, sighing deeply every few moments.  When I cleared my throat to announce my presence, she almost jumped out of her skin.

"Karalyn!  Heavens, I didn't see you!"  She pressed one hand to her rather copious bosom and took several deep breaths.  I hadn't really paid much attention to Rebecca before this.  She was very quiet, not that it was a simple matter to get a word in around Johanna and Paula.  With that in mind, I took a good look at her for the first time.

She was very short, with black hair and muddy gray/brown eyes.  She was a little on the plump side with a round face, and her nose was upturned in such a way that I was slightly reminded of a young pig.  The nose, however, did not mar her appearance any; instead, it seemed to lend an air of youth to her.  Overall, she was pretty, and, if not the brightest, she certainly wasn't completely brainless.  This was proven to me when she picked up the stack of books she'd chosen.

Two of them were treatises on advanced mathematics, something most men didn't even attempt unless absolutely necessary.  Rebecca must have noticed my gaze because she shifted nervously.  "My father is an architect.  He built the building that Johanna's father's bank is in."  She cleared her throat nervously, "Don't tell Johanna, please?  She thinks it's unladylike for women to be too smart."

I almost snorted at that.  _She just thinks it's 'unladylike' for anyone to be smarter than her._  So much I wanted to say that, but I just nodded and smiled conspiratorially.  "If you'd like, I will put them in my stack."

Rebecca, glancing around and noting Johanna hovering around the back desk like some unhappy spirit, nodded vigorously.  I took the two books from her, precariously shifting my doll as I helped her off the ground.  While Rebecca checked out the rest of her books, an essay collection on the history of dance and three romantic novels, I surreptitiously flipped through the two books of mathematics.  I was pleasantly surprised by their difficulty.  _Perhaps there is someone here who can grasp Shishio-sama's genius after all._

When the shopkeeper took my purchases, Johanna stared at them so hard that I was sure that she knew about the switch somehow.  As she turned her eyes to a nearby shelf, however, I realized that she wasn't glaring, but squinting.  _Queen Johanna needs spectacles?_

The amusing image of Johanna's thin, pointed face weighed down by humongous wire frames slipped through my mind.  The laugh died in my throat, though, as I saw myself slicing through the face with my Ohgama.  I did so miss my scythe.  That unhappy thought quickly drained my good humor.

My loss of humor was not helped by the fact that Miss van Haver was waiting for us outside the shop.  "Hurry up.  It's time for lunch," she snapped at me, then turned and marched off in a huff.

We met up with the other girls outside a small restaurant and were quickly shown to our seats.  From the moment we stepped inside, all eyes were upon me; I could feel them like pin pricks on my skin.  Of course, what else could I expect?  I am the sexiest.

Before we had even finished seating ourselves, a waiter came out to take our orders.  He took one look at me, however, and stopped dead in his tracks.  Johanna had to not so subtly stomp on his foot before he recovered himself enough to continue.  I smiled winningly at him and ordered the simplest meat dish they had and a salad.

He smiled back and turned to go, tripping over his own feet and crashing to the floor.  Still smiling, but red as a radish, he got to his feet and scrambled into the kitchens.  Johanna and Paula were green with envy, but Rebecca and Jessica looked about ready to burst a stay (2) laughing.

While we waited for the entertainment, pardon, I mean the waiter, to return, Johanna and Paula whispered and chatted amongst themselves.  The rest of us were silent.

The restaurant was stylishly decorated and obviously catered to the high middle of high society.  I was hopeful that this meant it had a French chef.  The delicious scents of the restaurant were reminding me that I hadn't eaten since I got off the ship the previous day at midmorning.  The jester, pardon again, waiter, returned balancing a tray of glasses and a pitcher of lemonade.  I was quite surprised when he managed to gracefully place each cup and serve the lemonade without mishap.

When he came around to my seat, I smiled at him again, "Thank you..?"

He blushed a delightful shade of pink and choked, "Geoffrey…"

I could feel a predatory smile slip onto my face, "Well, Geoffrey, it's so… nice to meet you."  I batted my eyelashes at him as I had seen a comtesse do in Paris.  The poor boy made it all the way to the kitchen door before tripping and sending the pitcher of lemonade all over his nice crisp uniform.  I must admit, the view was nicer with his clothes stuck to him.

I was dragged from my pleasant contemplation by the harsh sound of a throat clearing.  Let me tell you, if looks could kill, I'd have enough weapons to set up shop again.  Miss van Haver, Johanna and Paula were glaring so hard I thought their eyeballs would burst.  _If only._  Well, I think Johanna was glaring, anyway.  Miss Priss was aimed a little too far to my left, so she may have just been trying to figure out where I was exactly.

Now, I suppose that I was probably living up to the exact kind of behavior Miss van Haver had expected of me.  Not that that was going to stop me any, but I do give the woman SOME credit…  I smiled sweetly and sighed, "What a nice young man.  Don't you think so, Johanna?  The help in Paris isn't nearly so charming."  Johanna seemed torn for a moment, but finally nodded reluctantly.  Her lips were pinched so tight that I was reminded of a joke Chou had particularly liked.  It was the one about the virgin who… Never mind.

Sadly enough, our waiter's drenched state meant that he had to go fetch clean clothes to wear, so some other person served us for the rest of the meal.  It wasn't nearly as entertaining.

Finally, the dishes were served, and I looked forward to eating real food at last.  As soon as I cut into the slab of meat, however, my appetite vanished.  The red juices oozed out of the meat, flowing over the edge of the plate and across the table.  As they spread, they grew darker until everything was drowning in deep, rich blood.  I looked around at the other girls, trying to contain my terror.  _Not here… Not now…_ Miss van Haver was gleefully ripping the flesh from the arm of that poor waiter, while Johanna picked out his eyes.  The other girls were simply staring down at their laps, oblivious to the carnage all around them.  The restaurant was filled with the disembodied appendages of the other patrons.  _I did this.  I killed them all…_

I had drowned in this waking dream often since my defeat at Kaoru's hands, and each time, even if I was expecting it, it shook me to my core.  This vision was different than all the rest, though.  Never before had anything remained untouched by the blood and gore.  As I glanced around, I saw Jessica looking sadly at me.  The blood lapped at her shoes, but not a drop touched her.  I shook my head at her, wanting her to look away from me; not to see the blood on my hands and in my heart.  She just smiled sadly and reached out for me.

Everything dissolved into slick crimson that got darker and darker until the blackness threatened to overwhelm me.  Then I heard Yumi's voice, _Be__ strong, my friend._ Blackness exploded with color, and the world spun back into being.  I was breathing hard, sweat beading on my brow, but I had conquered the fear.  _For the moment._

The blood was gone, but I had no appetite for the delicious meal.  I picked at my salad through luncheon, watching the others dig into their meals gratefully.

The image of Jessica sitting like an island in a sea of blood was etched into my brain.

*****

The afternoon blurred together in a succession of uninteresting shops.  I was so preoccupied with my vision that I just followed where I was led.  Standing in the stationer's shop, I finally managed to drag a bit of my mind back into the present just in time for Johanna to launch into a fascinating explanation of the purpose and proper use of 'visiting cards'.  She then insisted on helping me pick out a set for myself.

I probably could have told her that I'd learned all about those cards in Paris, but I was too drained to argue with her over something so ridiculous.  I managed to settle on something rather unadorned, no lacey borders or ribbon trims; just a simple pale green card with a vine crawling up two sides of it.  Johanna arranged to have the cards delivered to the school while I, realizing I had next to no western writing equipment left, picked out paper and ink for classes on Monday.  I also found a pretty stationery set for personal correspondence.  _Not that I'm allowed to write to anyone._

We were leaving the shop when I caught a scent on the breeze from the cobbler's next door.  Leather.  Oil.  It wrapped me in warmth, and I willingly followed that scent back to happier times.

*****

"Yer hair's gettin' long again, Kama."

It had been over a year since I'd joined the Juppon Gatana, and I'd yet to see Chou actually enter my room.  He said it wasn't polite to enter a lady's private quarters, which was why it was perfectly fine for him to tromp through Yumi's dressing chamber at most times of day or night.  I turned to the doorway, and, as I'd suspected, he was standing with his arm braced against the door frame; not a single hair crossed the threshold.  It was sweet, really.

"I know," I sighed. "I'll have to cut it again soon."  I smiled up at him, "Care to do it for me?"  This was a game we played.  I asked him to come in, he refused.  He invited me to train with him, I declined.  We all had little games we played with one another in the Juppon Gatana.  It helped us all stay friends… or at least not kill each other.

Chou just quirked one eyebrow at me, "You wanna take me on?"  Back when I first joined the group, I only knew how to fight with one weapon: the short knife.  It was the weapon of whores and women, so of course my mother was an expert.  Kaa-san taught me how to wield that blade with style and accuracy, and that was my expertise.  I couldn't hold a candle to Chou, but I was good enough to at least to stay alive in Shishio-sama's training sessions.

"Thank you for the offer, but I only challenge men like you in bed," I winked at him.  That line always seemed to amuse the broom head to no end.

A few minutes later, I was ready to lop my hair off again.  My hairstyle in those days was a ragged hack job caused by the uneven cuts of my blade, and Soujiro and Yumi loved to tease me about being the mop to Chou's broom.  I had grabbed a chunk of hair and reached awkwardly back to slice it off when an aggravated sigh interrupted my concentration.

"Fer the gods' sake…  Gimme that thing 'fore you hurt yerself!"  Chou's gloved hand took the knife from me, and he proceeded to give me what was probably the best haircut of my life.  Just don't tell him that I said that.

The next day, however, I wasn't very thankful.  He dragged me out to the training arena and, claiming that I 'owed' him for the haircut, proceeded to make me sample different weapons to find one that I liked.  Being the contrary little brat that I am, I complained about every weapon he showed me.  I named off a list of requirements for the weapon I wanted that was completely absurd.  It had to be taller than me, weighted perfectly, and have a blade half as long as I am tall.  When that didn't faze him any, I threw on the ball and chain bit in a fit of pique and stormed back to my rooms.

I thought nothing more of it until several months later when my birthday was rolling around.  Chou and Saitsushi were often seen deep in conversation, but whenever I showed up, they acted like they'd been caught stealing.  Now, I don't trust Saitsushi under the best of circumstances, and when he and broom head get together…  You should see some of the practical jokes those two come up with.  It was understandable, therefore, that I was extremely nervous come the dawning of my sixteenth birthday.

Around midmorning, Soujiro was dispatched to bring me news that my presence was needed in the training arena.  The fact that Soujiro delivered this news with a gigantic smile did nothing for my nerves.  Never mind the fact that I've never seen that boy when he's not smiling.

Whatever it was that I was expecting when I stepped into the training arena, it was definitely not what I got.  Someone had picked large quantities of lilies, my favorite flower, and placed them in a circular arrangement around a table outfitted for a party.  Everyone was there, excepting Usui, and each held a wrapped bundle.

Chou, who had been hiding to one side of the entrance, jumped out and dumped flower petals over my head.  "Happy Birthday, Kama."

I won't go into the details of the party because somewhere around the fourth bottle of sake it got well beyond polite conversation.  Before that, however, came the presents.  Yumi and Shishio-sama collaborated to give me my soft green and royal purple kimono.  Yumi said that the color and rich fabric would minimize notice of my lack of 'feminine appendages'.  Soujiro gifted me with my ebony silk obi, and although it's hard to tell, there are actually black dragons embroidered on the whole thing to protect me from harm.  Saitsushi, the old rascal, gave me my bracers.

"First, you have such obviously weak hands," he said, "that they will require extra protection.  Second, we must protect that delicate skin of yours."  Everyone chuckled at that, including me.  "Thirdly, I have designed these myself, so they are the very best."  He always was a bit full of himself, but he was right; those were the very best.

Houji then presented me with gift money, which no one was much surprised at.  Anji gave me a stone carving he'd done of me…  I lost that in the fall of the fortress.  Iwanbo hadn't joined us at that point, and Fuji claimed half of Saitsushi's present.  Hennya gave me a jar of Chinese skin cream that was guaranteed to keep my skin beautiful.

Finally, it was Chou's turn to present his gift.  He had no wrapped bundle, but left briefly and returned carrying the most awkward thing I'd ever seen in my life.  He had found me a weapon that met all my insane criteria.  Little did I know it was going to be perfect, and that within a year I'd be moved above him in the ranks of the Juppon Gatana.

*****

By the time we reached the last shop of the day, a candy store, I had regained a little of my equilibrium.  My stomach had also recovered enough to remind me that I hadn't eaten in well over a day.

The rest of the girls were also in the store, so I gathered that this was the meeting place before we all returned to school.  Most of them were chatting quietly about what they were going to buy and how much it was going to affect their corset strings.  Near the back, staring with longing at a display of chocolate dipped fruits, stood Jessica.  She looked totally worn out, and I noticed for the first time that she was wearing her own uniform again.  It didn't help the overall air of dilapidation that surrounded her.

I wasn't the only one who noticed the focus of Jessica's attention.  Johanna sashayed over to her side and commented innocently, "Those look positively delicious.  Are you going to get some, Jessica?"  Without bothering to wait for an answer, she tilted her head as though realizing something and said loudly, "Oh, that's right, you can't afford even a single confection!"

The others in the room looked uncomfortable for the poor redhead, but at the same time, relieved that it wasn't them.  Never wavering for a second, Jessica lifted her chin and excused herself to wait by the carriage.  Johanna laughed nasally at her retreating back, but quickly lost interest when no one but Paula seemed at all amused.

The moment that I even glanced in the general direction of the display cabinets, my stomach decided it had had enough with waiting.  It proceeded to begin eating its way out of my body; or at least that's what it felt like.  "Well, she may not be able to buy anything, but I certainly can."  I dragged a smirk onto my face and began picking out my purchases.  Only Miss van Haver seemed to think anything of it when I bought a bag full of the fruit Jessica had been eying.

*****

  
(1)  "And Thou Art Dead, As Young and Fair"

by George Gordon, Lord Byron 

(2)  A stay is a lace used in tightening a corset.


End file.
